


Shelter

by pugoata



Category: RWBY
Genre: A wee bit of smut, Angst, Bumbleby - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-01 14:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 73,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17868830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugoata/pseuds/pugoata
Summary: AU: Escaping an abusive boyfriend, Blake finds herself hiding out in a hayloft during a storm. The next morning, the farmer finds her. Working on the farm may be the solution for Blake's current homelessness and for the farmer's loneliness. TW: A few descriptions of domestic abuse.This may take place on a farm, but it is not BeeHaw. There will especially be no Yorse of any sort.





	1. Chapter 1

“Up. Now. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the cops.”

There was a disturbing moment where Blake didn't know where she was. Her eyes flew open, taking in the hay, the sound of the wind howling through cracks in the walls, and the furious red eyes. Her stomach dropped and she pushed herself away from the frightening face before her.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just needed to get out of the rain. I'll leave now.” She sat up, keeping an arm in front of her to shield herself from the expectant blow.

The woman-- for she finally realized that's who had found her-- only stared. To Blake's surprise, those red eyes changed to lilac during a single blink. Then she remembered what the woman was staring at.

Hastily, she grabbed her still-wet jacket, jamming her arms into the sleeves and tugging the collar around her throat. It was a futile effort and both of them knew it. The bruises on her neck were a dark purple, unmissable, unmistakeable. Handprints.

“What was that?” the other woman finally asked. Blake shook her head. A single piece of hay fell loose, sticking to her jacket's damp shoulder. 

“None of your business.”

“Well, I thought I'd ask, considering you're in _my_ business,” the blonde woman pointed out. “Are you homeless? Are you on drugs?”

Blake couldn't help a snort of derision. “I have enough problems without dealing with drugs.”

The woman bobbed her head to the side in acknowledgement. “Fair enough. But you are homeless, or else you wouldn't be sleeping in a stranger's hayloft.”

“I already told you, I'm sorry. I'll be leaving now--”

The woman held up a silencing hand. “It's still cold and drizzly outside. If you go back out, especially in wet clothes, you'll catch hypothermia before you even get within sight of Vale. That's where you're headed, right?”

Blake nodded miserably. 

“It looks like you've been through some shit. I'm not heartless, y'know. Let me get this hay to the animals and you can come inside. Shower, nap… and you're really skinny, so I'd bet you're pretty hungry, too.”

Blake hated how automatic the nod came. “I had no money, so I've had to dumpster dive to get anything to eat.” She didn't mean for the words to sound so bitter, either. The blonde grimaced.

“Right. You shower while I make breakfast.”

“That's not necessary…”

“Okay. So tell me your alternative.”

The two women stared each other down, but it was Blake who caved first. The blonde was more assertive than Blake could ever be. Her confidence versus Blake's shame was no match.

“Thanks,” Blake mumbled. The blonde smiled. It was a soft smile, and the way it made her eyes crinkle made her look downright friendly.

“My name's Yang. What's yours?”

“Blake.”

Though Blake kept her other hand at her collar, the two women shook hands. Even though Yang had already seen the bruises, she didn't want them to be stared at. For her part, Yang seemed to respect this, for she didn't pry.

After Yang tossed down a few flakes of hay and climbed back down, Blake needed a minute to calm down. She hadn't realized how much faster her pulse was throbbing until now. Her nerves were utterly shot. She had wanted to be out of here before anyone even noticed she'd slept here. Had she not hidden well enough? Was Yang just an early riser? Or had Blake simply slept too late? 

She could run. She could be down from the loft and out the door before Yang even knew. She'd be free.

But the wind outside was fierce. She could hear it pounding relentlessly against barn, and her clothes were still soaked. Yang's mention of hypothermia hadn't been an exaggeration. It'd be a wonder if Blake hadn't caught a cold already.

Packing would have given Adam an idea that she was going to run, so she had no spare clothes, no money, no food. Just a jacket and a wallet that held nothing but an ID inside. She'd managed to ditch him in the middle of a White Fang gathering, claiming that she must have eaten some bad food and really needed to use the restroom. The excuse gave her enough time to run to a high-traffic road and hitchhike out of there. 

In the days since, her highest priority had been staying out of sight. Throwing herself to a stranger's mercy made her queasy.

“C'mon, guys, this is shameful!” she heard Yang scold.

Curiosity killed the cat, didn't it? Blake tried to climb down the old wooden ladder quietly, wincing at each squeak it made. It was trickier than she remembered. A couple times, a rung had been so badly rotten that it was unusable. How had she managed to climb up in the early hours of the morning, while sopping wet and freezing, in the dark? 

She poked her head around a corner, where Yang closed a stall door behind her. When she looked up and saw Blake watching her, she flashed an amused grin. 

“Usually, I can sneak in and out without much notice. But goats _hate_ being wet, so they're all inside today. I got mobbed for the hay.”

“Goats? Why goats?”

“I don't know. Dad decided to go with them over dairy cows, for some reason. We have a couple steers for meat, but he prefers goats for milk.”

“Your dad?” Blake's heart sank. Dealing with one stranger was bad enough, but two…?

“Don't worry about him. He's subbing over at Signal for the semester. You know, the fancy boarding school in Vale?”

“Never heard of it.”

“Well, he's covering another teacher's maternity leave, so he asked me to take care of things here. Which is annoying. The goats are going to have babies in about a month, so I'm going to have to deal with that mostly on my own. He said he'd try to get some time off then to come home, but we'll see.” Yang rolled her eyes. 

Blake relaxed a little. No other strangers.

A sharp gust of wind blew in, sneaking through the wall cracks again. Blake shivered.

“Here.” Yang pulled off her jacket, thrusting it at Blake. “I'll turn around. You need to get out of that wet shirt or you're going to get sick.”

Blake flushed. “I can't do that. Then _you'll_ be cold.”

“My temperature is naturally pretty hot. I'll be okay till we get you back to the house.” She gave Blake a patient smile. “You, on the other hand, are already at risk.”

Embarrassed, Blake took the jacket and waited for Yang to turn around before stripping out of her jacket and shirt. Yang seemed to be telling her the truth about her body temperature, for the jacket was toasty. She pulled the hood up over her icy cat ears. She wished there was a collar, but there was little she could do about that now. It wasn't as if Yang hadn't ready seen the bruises before.

“Feeling any better?” Yang asked after Blake gave her the go-ahead to turn back around.

“You weren't kidding when you said you're warm.”

Yang's smile was a winning one.

Blake hugged herself as they braved the wind and rain. Though Yang claimed that the farmhouse was only a short walk away, the walk felt a hundred years long. Blake kept her head bent, bracing against the wind that was already chasing the warmth from Yang's jacket. She was shivering violently by the time Yang got the door open.

Blake gawked at the mudroom. It looked like a disaster had swept through. Boots of different sizes and colors were strewn about, jackets of different varieties took up all the coat pegs and even some floor space. Dried mud was crumbling in every corner and bits of hay were on _everything_.

Looking comfy, though wet, Yang plopped down on the wooden bench and pulled her boots off. Wordlessly, Blake pulled her hood down and followed suit. Her poor flats were probably ruined by now. God only knew her feet sure felt that way.

To her relief, the living room was much tidier. The couches and chairs weren't fancy by any means, but they looked comfortable enough to curl up on with a good book. She stared at the bookshelves longingly. Her biggest regret about running away was leaving her books behind.

“Bathroom is this way,” Yang told her, gesturing for her to follow. “I'm a bit taller than you, but I'll get you some of my pajamas. Ruby's clothes are probably too short.”

“Ruby?” 

“My sister. She goes to Signal, so she isn't home, either. You can have her room, actually.”

“That's really not necessary…” Blake tried to tell her, but Yang shook her head firmly.

“You can stop. Someone tried to kill you.” Her voice took a harsh edge. “Those bruises aren't just playful, messing-around bruises. Whoever did that to you tried to _kill you_. I may not know you, but what I _can_ tell is that running away from whoever did that was brave as hell.”

Blake _knew_ her face was scarlet. For all the cold she felt, her face might as well be on fire.

“It wasn't brave,” she insisted, her voice quiet. “It was survival.”

“And who says they need to be exclusive?” Yang's voice had softened again. “Look. I want to help you however I can. That means not letting you get sick and die anyway. Once you can feel that sunshine on your shoulders again, you can do what you want or go where you want. For now, though, I'm going to keep you safe.”

With that, she went into what must have been her bedroom. Blake stared after her in disbelief, then slowly hugged herself again. She shook, but this time, it wasn't from cold. 

Yang returned a couple minutes later to usher Blake into the small bathroom. As soon as the door shut behind Yang, Blake stared at herself in the mirror. The handprints on her neck were just as vivid than they had been when she'd gotten them. She recalled Adam's hands on her, the way he screamed at her, as her panic turned to despair as she fought to get air into her lungs. She had been so sure she was going to die.

It had amazed her that she woke up at all. She'd noticed that he'd put out another couple cigarettes on her arm again, but that pain was minor compared to the injuries on her neck. Next time, she might not be so lucky.

A sob tried to choke its way up, but she turned it into a cough. The cough hurt her tender airway, but it was better than having Yang hear her sobs.

Blake was horrified at all the dirt that pooled around her feet as the hot water sprayed her. Had she smelled? Not wanting to be caught by anyone, she had mostly slept in the woods, far from the road and any towns she'd passed through. As she'd told Yang, food mostly came from dumpsters outside restaurants. She'd been so grateful for society's wastefulness. Now, though, she was ashamed. Oh, wouldn't the anti-Faunus be so thrilled to hear one of them was finally living like an animal? 

As much as she hated to leave the warm safety of the shower, Blake turned it off. After several rounds of scrubbing, the water at her feet was running clear. She looked at the mirror again as she toweled off. If only the bruises would scrub away as easily. She didn't like the look of the shadows under her eyes, either. Those, at least, would go away with enough sleep.

After pulling the jacket back on over Yang's tank top, she emerged with extreme reluctance. She sniffed. Coffee and bacon. She may yet survive.

“You don't clean up half-bad!” Yang announced when Blake entered. “Coffee?”

“No thanks.” She tried to not look at Yang. She hated being in the position of damsel-in-distress.

“How about tea?”

Blake couldn't stop her cat ears from perking up. How long had it been since she'd had a cup of hot tea? Yang must have seen her ears move, for she laughed. She offered Blake a box filled with different tea bags. Though she was more of a loose-leaf person, these tea bags smelled better than any tea she could remember.

“Milk? Sugar? Honey? The honey is from our own hives, y'know.”

How could Blake turn down home-grown honey?

After dishing out food, Yang came to sit across from Blake. She was relieved to see that she wasn't the only one with a huge appetite. At the amount of bacon on Yang's plate, she wondered if an entire pig was slaughtered just for this breakfast.

“So, steers, goats… what else do you have here?” Blake asked, trying to avoid the awkward silences that would inevitably lead to questions about her own life.

“Chickens, a few pigs. Bees. Ruby tried keeping ducks, but they all died. Dad does a lot of gardening in the spring and summer, and we have a few apple trees. We have a dog named Zwei, but he's at Signal with Dad.”

“Have you always farmed?”

Yang shook her head. “He was a teacher at Signal before we were even born. Mom was a cop. She got killed in the line of duty when I was just a kid. Starting this farm was his way of coping, I think.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be. That was a long time ago. Ruby and I are pretty well-adjusted, I think!” She gave Blake a wink. “But it's nice here. Far enough from the city to be peaceful, though I do miss the nightlife. But I can always enjoy it again if I ever go back to college.”

The silence that passed between them was amiable. Blake was too focused on the food that she didn't miss the conversation. What she did miss, though, was the strange look that periodically passed across Yang's face as she gazed at Blake.

“I still have some work to do, but I'll show you to Ruby's room. You look exhausted, so a nap might be a good thing to have.” Yang cleared the dishes. Blake tried to help, but only got shooed away. “I'll wash your clothes, too. Are they the only clothes you have?”

Color rose in Blake's cheeks once again. She looked down at her feet and nodded. 

“It's nothing to be ashamed of,” Yang told her, a hint of sternness creeping in. After a brief hesitation, Blake looked up just enough to see Yang's face soften. “You'll be okay.”

After days of sleeping on the ground and a night in a hay loft, the comfort of Ruby's bed was enough to melt into. A framed picture on the nightstand showed what must have been the family. She recognized Yang’s bushy blonde hair on the kid in the photo. A darker-haired girl must be Ruby. The tall man-- their dad-- stood between them, holding their hands. With a pang, Blake remembered that the only photo she had with her parents was still in the flat she shared with Adam.

She turned away from the photo to look at the window. She’d pulled the curtains not only to keep out the sun, but because of her fear that someone would look in and see her.

How could she really trust Yang? Even if she meant well, Adam could probably twist things to get Yang to give her up. He’d done that to Ilia last year. She had escaped to her friend’s home, only for Adam to somehow convince her that she was mentally ill and a liar. He was a smooth talker, always ready with some kind of excuse. He’d already explained to several members of the White Fang that Blake had been attacked by an anti-Faunus human. They’d fallen for it quickly. It wasn’t like Blake could contradict him.

She pulled off Yang’s jacket and set it on the end of the bed. These covers were warm enough that she wouldn’t need it. They were so warm… and so soft…

Blake was out.

_He’d found her, just she knew he would. His approach was silent, and to Blake’s horror, she found that she couldn’t move her legs. It was like they were glued to the floor._

_“No, please…”_

_She raised her arms to shield her face. He didn’t need to say anything. This time, she knew that he would choke her again, and this time, she_ would _die. She shook, her breathing hard and fast. Desperate, she crouched and covered her head. His foot drew back, ready to strike…_

“NO!” Blake shrieked, shooting up from where she lay. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Sweat ran in rivulets down her body. It took her a short moment to remember where she was and how she got there. She bent over, panting.

“You okay?” There was a quick knock on the door and Yang peeked in. Blake forced herself to nod.

Yang frowned. “You don’t look so good. Can I come in?”

Though Blake didn’t respond, Yang came in anyway to sit beside her. She looked her guest up and down, then reached a hand out.

“No!” Blake gasped, holding an arm up to block Yang. The blonde woman raised an eyebrow.

“Blake, I think you’ve got a fever. I just want to feel your forehead. Can I do that?”

The words seemed to register slowly. When they did, Blake gave a short nod. She still winced as Yang touched her. It was a cool touch. She knew she was shaking badly, but she had no power to stop it. At least her heart was beginning to calm down. The last thing she wanted was to have a heart attack in the bed of Yang’s little sister. 

“You’re burning up. I’ve got-- oh, honey, please don’t tell me those are what I think they are.”

Why was her mind struggling to catch up with everything Yang was saying? It was as though she were moving through water. Every thought in her head was delayed. It dawned on her at last that Yang was talking about the burns and the scars of older ones. Blake bit her lip. Lie? What was even the point anymore?

“He’d do that whenever I pissed him off.” She spat the words out of her mouth. “Even if he choked me unconscious. Have a smoke, put it out on me.”

She shook her head, then pushed a strand of sweaty hair out of her eyes. She couldn’t meet Yang’s eyes. Not now.

“I don’t know you very well. Hardly at all.” Yang’s voice was level. Calm, even. “For all I know, you could be a criminal, or a cheat, or even a murderer. I don’t care about any of that.” Blake looked up at her, uncertain of where she was going with this. Yang, to her surprise, wasn’t looking at the burn marks, or even at Blake. She had gripped the blanket in her fists so tightly that her knuckles were white and was staring down at them. “But as long as I’m around, _nobody_ is going to touch you.”

She looked back up at Blake. Her eyes were no longer lilac. They burned red with rage. Blake could only stare.

“ _Nobody_ has the right to do that to another person.” She paused, then went on. “Mom had been called out to a domestic violence case. The suspect shot her.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “But when they managed to arrest the guy? His girlfriend tried to tell the cops that everything had been a mistake.”

Her bark of laughter was not an amused one. “Yang, I’m so--”

“I already told you, it was years ago. I’m telling you this so that you’ll believe me when I say that if the guy who did this to you ever shows his face around here, I’ll _kill_ him. Not just for you. Not just for myself. But for any family who might lose one of their own in the way I lost Mom. Nobody is going to hurt you. Not while I’m around.”

Blake tried to blink the tears away so that they would go unnoticed, but the fat drops fell onto the blanket noisily. She put a hand on one of Yang’s closed fists. The fist relaxed and opened to her touch. Blake lay her palm flat on Yang’s, then entwined her fingers with hers. When Blake looked back into Yang’s face, her eyes were lilac once more. They glistened, but did not leak.

That was when Blake realized her doubts about Yang had been unfounded. She tried to smile, but mentally cursed the tears that kept running. Yang reached out her free hand, hesitated, than ran a thumb under one of Blake’s eyes, wiping the tears that the dam could no longer keep back.

“I’m going to get you some medicine. How long were you stuck in the rain?”

“Too long,” Blake replied with a shaky laugh. Yang gave her hand a squeeze, then let go to stand up. 

“You’ll be safe here. I promise,” the blonde woman asserted, then left the room.

Yang was gone long enough for Blake to shake out a few sobs in private. She’d trained herself to cry as little as possible, so she hated for anyone to witness what she thought of as moments of weakness. Yet Yang had undone that within a day. Something about her just felt so safe, so comforting. Her mind didn’t necessarily want to trust her yet, but her heart was aching to. She couldn’t remember any kind of relationship in her life that made her feel like that.

“This is supposed to help with fevers,” Yang told her upon returning, placing a couple white capsules in Blake’s palm. “If they don’t work, I can see what else we’ve got.”

“Thank you.” She smiled gratefully at the blonde. “For everything.”

Yang’s responding smile lit her whole face. “I’m glad I can help.”

The fever had broken by the next morning. Yang had tried to remain as unobtrusive as possible, for which Blake was grateful. Being in a welcoming place like Yang’s house took a lot of getting used to. Doing day-to-day tasks like using the bathroom or perusing the bookshelves didn’t require walking on eggshells. Settling into this relief was more difficult than she thought it could be.

“Is there anything I can help with?” she’d asked Yang at the dinner table that night. Yang’s golden eyebrows shot up.

“Are you kidding? You’re sick. If you want to help, you can do that by getting better.”

Her fever breaking meant that maybe she could actually do something rather than just lay around. Laziness was something that Adam had always warned against. Not doing anything felt almost like a crime. Yet Yang didn’t seem eager to enlist her help right away.

“Not today. I’m not that desperate for help that I’m going to drag around someone who was just sick. Remember, I’ve been on my own since Dad left for Vale.”

So Blake tried to relax as hard as she could. Ruby seemed to have an interesting taste in graphic novels, so Blake helped herself. She still couldn’t shake the feeling of uselessness. That morning, she’d formulated a plan for her afternoon.

“You’re pretty quiet,” Yang commented over lunch. Blake shrugged.

“I’m not much of a talker.” Blake spooned some of the soup into her mouth. Yang had told her that everything but the noodles came from the farm: the chicken, the stock that even more chicken had made, and the vegetables were all homegrown. It was delicious.

“Where are you from?” Yang asked.

“Originally? Menagerie.” She paused. “Do… you know the White Fang?”

“Who doesn’t?” Yang blew on a spoonful of the soup. “They’re Faunus extremists, right?”

“Yeah,” Blake said, a bit uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go on.

“Were you a member?”

A pained look flashed across Blake’s face. “I was young. Stupid. Got caught up in everything when they became more radical. That’s where I met Adam.”

Yang looked up sharply. Unable to meet her eyes, Blake stared into her soup bowl. “Since I was twelve, I’ve been traveling with the White Fang from place to place. We were never in the same place for long.”

“Since you were _twelve_?” Yang looked aghast. Blake nodded. “Were you with… _him_ that whole time?”

“Most of it. He was just a mentor at first, but as I got older I thought I had a crush on him. Looking back, though, I think he knew it was just puppy love, so he exploited it.” She shook her head. “Exploitation is what Adam is best at. He wouldn’t even let me talk to my parents. He said they’d just convince me to leave the White Fang.”

“The more you tell me about him, the more I hate this guy,” Yang told her, eyes glinting.

“You wanted to know more about me. Well, there you go.”

A brief silence stretched between them, then Yang gave her small smile. “Thank you for telling me.” A pause. “I really want to get to know you more.”

Blake looked up, surprised. “Really?”

“I do. Maybe it’s because I’ve been on my own for a few weeks now and I’m lonely. And I know I don’t know much about you, but just because I don’t know you doesn’t mean I can’t learn.”

It was her words that Blake replayed over and over in her head as she sorted the boots and jackets in the mudroom. Cleaning the mudroom would be her contribution. She didn’t know what the future held, but she could start by doing _something_. Her words made Blake think Yang wanted to be friends, but that would be impossible. The next day would be sunny, and she could leave for Vale. 

Being in a big city would be easy to disappear in, to start a new life in. She’d been there before on missions for the White Fang, and she had an idea about where she could go. Not that she could use any of her contacts. It would be a hard life, but she was confident it could work.

For some reason, she just hated the idea of leaving.

“Holy shit. What happened in here?!” Yang stared in disbelief at the mudroom.

“I couldn’t sit around anymore, doing nothing,” Blake replied with a shrug. “And this room was bothering me. I mean, there was enough hay in here to make another bale. And don’t even get me started on all the mud!”

A pause, then Yang burst out laughing. She doubled over with it. The laughter was contagious, and Blake ended up joining her.

“Well,” Yang finally said, “I figured it’s a _mud_ room. There’s supposed to be mud!”

“There’s a difference between _calling_ it a mudroom and actually filling it with _mud_ ,” Blake pointed out. Yang cackled.

“Point taken. Thank you, Blake!”

Yang admired her work longer than was necessary, but Blake was amused by the attention. This woman was turning out to be even more larger-than-life than anyone she’d known. It was almost comical, but from Yang, it felt real. As she inspected her work, Blake folded her arms across her chest. She’d worked up too much of a sweat to wear her jacket, but it still felt weird to not cover her arms around someone.

“Have you ever done any farm work, Blake?” Yang asked as they migrated to the kitchen.

“No. How come?”

Yang bit one side of her lip. “Dad said that if any of my friends wanted to help me out here, he’d pay them,” she told her slowly. “Not to be presumptuous or anything, but… And you can say no, of course… but you need a place to stay, right? A safe place? And a job?”

Blake’s heart leapt. “Are you asking me if I want to stay and help you?”

She was startled by the shade of red Yang turned. “If you want to, I’d really appreciate the help, especially during kidding season. And… living by myself is pretty lonely.”

She didn’t think Yang could ever look as embarrassed as she did right now. Blake tried not to look too interested.

“I’m basically a stranger. What makes you think I’d be any good here?”

“You’re tough. And I like you. If you end up being neither tough nor likeable, I’ll just kick you out.” Yang’s smile indicated that she didn’t think that would happen. “Also, I’m a little crazy. I like taking these kinds of risks.”

“In that case…” Blake paused for dramatic effect. “I think I’d really like staying here. And helping you.”

She would have been too embarrassed to tell Yang that she felt safer with her than she probably would have felt in Vale. However, she did reach out a hand for one of Yang’s. Her hand was calloused and warm, and it gave her own hand a gentle squeeze.

“Well, I’d love to have you. You don’t even have to sleep in the hayloft.”

They both laughed. Some things just felt so natural.


	2. Chapter 2

The biggest struggle was boots.

“I wish my feet weren't so big,” Yang grumbled, seizing a pair of Ruby's old work boots. “Do you have toddler feet or something? Even Ruby has bigger feet than you!”

Blake was still inspecting her poor, abused flats. She knew she couldn't farm in them, but she'd at least hoped they were salvageable. But the sole was falling off one of them, and the water damage made them each look different colors now. She sighed. It was just a part of the price of freedom, she supposed.

“I guess I never really thought about the size of my feet,” she confessed. “It's not like I had the chance to compare them much with other people.”

“I think my feet were your size in kindergarten,” Yang went on with a smirk. “Ruby has more normal feet, but Dad always likes to say that I've got borderline man-feet.”

This made Blake laugh. “Toddler feet do sound preferable to that.”

“You could probably buy those light-up kids’ sneakers if you really wanted to!”

“That's my dream. How'd you ever guess?”

They both laughed. Levity was new for Blake, but she was in a good mood this morning, so it came more easily to her. Presuming they could figure out her boot situation, Yang was going to give her a tour of the farm. She was interested in actually getting to look around. On the few occasions she'd been outside, it had been raining too hard to see much of anything. Now that the sun was out, Blake was eager to get a lay of the land. 

Yang finally gave up on finding a perfect fit for Blake. Instead, she stuffed socks into the pair she held.

“This will do until this weekend.”

“What's this weekend?”

“We have to go to Vale anyway for the farmers’ market. We'll get you some boots and a new wardrobe. No, don't argue. Girl, you have _no clothes_.”

Blake shifted uncomfortably on her feet. She'd been stuck wearing different pieces of Yang and Ruby's wardrobe. Neither of them was a perfect fit for Blake, so her borrowed jeans needed a tight belt and Yang's shirt needed to be tied off on the side with a hair band. The clothes she'd worn here were unsuitable for farming.

“Don't worry about it. Really. If it makes you feel better, we can take out the cost from your paycheck. But think about it, you can't work for me if you don't have the right clothes.” Yang's smile was meant to be reassuring, but Blake was already wallowing in self-doubt. Yang frowned, sensing the withdrawal. “Blake? Stop. It's all right.”

She reached out to squeeze Blake's shoulder lightly. The world seemed to snap back into focus as she took in Yang's smile.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“No need to apologize. Try these on now. I can put more in or take some out if I have to.”

After a few rounds of trial and error, Ruby's old boots finally felt tolerable. It would do for now, at least. Saturday was only a couple days away.

“Let's do the barn first. Most of the animals have probably let themselves out to pasture already, but maybe we can sneak in with hay,” Yang told her, grabbing a basket off the shelf. “This is for the eggs. When we were younger, Ruby and I would try to fit all the eggs in our pockets. It was fun until we started running and I tripped. Ruby tripped over me, and before you know it, we were covered in crushed eggs.”

Blake found herself smiling. She opened the door and she was almost blinded by the sunlight that poured in. As they stepped out, she allowed herself a minute to just bask in the warmth. After all that rain, this was delightful.

In the light, she saw the barn was an old relic. She noticed the parts that had been repaired, but most of the exterior was weathered. The roof was missing a few shingles, but as a whole, the barn was a hardy beast.

“It’s mainly the goats and chickens who live here. The cows have a shelter in their own pasture and I move the pigs around during the warm months. They’ll be back in here for winter, though. The buck goats have a separate shelter. Back when they lived in the barn, they kept getting in with the girls. It was a mess.”

Yang instructed Blake on the specifics of the animals’ food and water. It was a lot of information, but it was all logical. She was particularly amused by the chickens’ set-up. “Is that a doggy door?”

“A deconstructed doggy door,” Yang corrected, pointing out how it was missing the flap that most doggy doors had. A chicken hopped out of it and Blake grinned. “Sometimes, you’ll hear a chicken in here, yodeling or singing. That usually means they’re laying an egg. Some of the girls are very vocal about it.”

“I think I would be, too, considering how big some of these eggs are.”

Yang snorted. “It does makes sense, doesn’t it? I let them free-range during the day, but I lock them up at night. We get a lot of predators around here. They usually put themselves back to roost, though, so I don’t have to chase them down.”

Blake recognized the ancient ladder that led up to the hayloft. With ease, Yang climbed it and tossed down a few flakes of hay. Some would go to the cows and the bucks, but a couple flakes would go to what Yang referred to as “the ladies.”

“They’re so big!” Blake gasped, staring at the goats in the extended stall. 

“Wide, you mean,” Yang said with a laugh. The goats were shorter in stature that Blake anticipated, but the black and white one was easily as wide as she was tall. “They’re very, very pregnant. I kinda want to tape lights to their hind legs and hang a ‘wide load’ sign from their tails.”

Blake shook her head in amusement. “You said they’re due in a month?”

“A little less than that, actually. We were so busy with the gardens this summer that we had a bit of a late start. We usually try to have them kid before the cold weather really sets in.”

A short golden-colored goat waddled up to them. Blake reached a hand down. The goat sniffed her hand, then looked up at her with large brown eyes. 

“That’s Pam. She’s one of the friendlier does,” Yang told her.

“Pam? That’s sort of a weird name for a goat.”

“You’re telling me. Dad has a strange sense of humor. That’s why he’s not allowed to name them anymore.”

They laughed, and Blake ran her fingers along Pam’s smooth fur. “So boys are bucks, and does are girls?” she asked, wanting to make sure she got the terminology right.

“Just like deer. And rabbits, actually.”

“Rabbits? Really?”

“Swear to God.” Yang’s laughing eyes met Blake’s own. They exchanged their small smiles. Blake ignored the goosebumps that ran across her arms. It was sunny, but there was still a bite in the cold air.

A _ding_ from Yang’s phone interrupted their moment. She gave it a quick glance.

“You can hang out here for a few minutes. Someone’s at our farmstand. I’ll take you there later, but it’ll be quicker if I take care of it now.”

“I’ll be here.”

Blake let herself into the long goat stall. There was an opening that led out to their pasture, and most of them were taking advantage of the October sunshine. Yang had told her that they loved to eat the dead leaves that fell from the trees, so she imagined that’s what all the pregnant goats were doing. “Dead leaves are like potato chips for goats,” Yang had told her, with the ever-present laughter in her voice.

She looked around the stall and found herself enjoying being here. Truly enjoying it. Pam the goat approached her again, maybe thinking she had a treat in her hand this time. Blake crouched down to run her hands over that sleek golden body. The goat didn’t purr or anything, but she appeared to tolerate Blake’s touch. 

The massive black-and-white goat gave Blake a cursory sniff, but seeing that there were no offerings to the short goddesses, she went back out the door into the pasture. Blake suppressed giggle at the sight of the sad waddling.

As promised, Yang returned after about fifteen minutes. She looked thoughtfully down at Blake with Pam.

“She’d keep you here all day if she could,” Yang commented. Blake stood up, stretching her legs.

“It kept me busy!” Though she had said the words with a smile, it faded after seeing the look on Yang’s face. She immediately came out of the stall. “Is something wrong?”

“The person at the farmstand was looking for you. She asked if I’d seen anyone like you around.”

Blake’s heart dropped. All good humor was gone. “Did she tell you her name?”

“She said it was Ilia Amitola. She gave me her number, too. Do you know her?”

Blake sank to her knees, unable to hold up her weight any longer. This couldn’t be happening. She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly, not out of denial, but in disbelief.

“I have to get out of here.”

“Blake, listen to me.” Yang’s words came from her level. Had she come down to the floor with her? “I told her that I hadn’t seen anyone like you around. She left.”

Still unable to look at Yang, Blake pressed her palms against her eyes. “It’s not safe here. I need to go.”

“Who is she?”

She didn’t want to tell her any of this, but Yang knew so much about her already that lying would be pointless. She pulled her hands away from her eyes, but still avoided Yang’s gaze. There were no tears, but she couldn’t face her like this. “She was my best friend in the White Fang. I left Adam a little over a year ago. This isn’t my first time running away, you know. I ran to Ilia. I thought I was safe.” She gritted her teeth and clenched her hands into fists. “But he knew where I went. He knows how to manipulate. He told her I was… unwell. Mentally. That I was delusional and off my meds. He said he was only trying to _help me_.” 

Her voice started to choke up, so she cleared her throat and took a deep breath before continuing. “She led him straight to me. Oh, he acted nice enough while he _rescued_ me from Ilia’s apartment. But when we got home…” She shuddered. Her last sentence was a whisper. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

Yang’s touch was tentative. A hand squeezed Blake’s shoulder. She seemed to think for a moment, then pulled Blake into her, both arms enveloping her in a tight embrace. Blake’s body tensed briefly, then allowed the contact. She collapsed into Yang, trying to burrow into the woman’s natural heat as Yang slowly rubbed her back. She hadn’t realized how close she was to hyperventilating until now. Yang’s gentle movements were undoing the knots of anxiety in her her chest.

Blake closed her eyes. Yang’s fingers were now in her hair, stroking it and smoothing it away from her face. She was helpless. 

But there were worse things than being helpless in Yang’s arms, she realized guiltily.

“You’re all right,” Yang murmured. “You’re safe here. _No one_ is going to take you.”

Blake was ashamed to admit, even to herself, that she would have stayed in Yang’s arms for the rest of the morning. Maybe even the rest of the day. There was something inherently safe about Yang. The comfort there was dizzying. Nevertheless, Blake did eventually pull herself away from Yang. Her cheeks were pink and she couldn’t look at the farmer.

Despite this, Yang gave her a last rub on her shoulder. “I’m not going to tell any visitors anything about you,” she told Blake firmly. She placed her fingers under Blake’s chin, urging eye contact. “I don’t want you to think about having to run away.” She paused, then bit her lip before adding, “ _Please_. Don’t leave. We haven’t known each other long enough to even be friends yet.”

Blake took Yang’s hand in her own. She squeezed it, then nodded.

They were busy enough the rest of the day that they didn’t linger on what had happened that morning. Blake got to meet the rest of the livestock and got to see what was growing in the greenhouses. Yang assured her several times that even though they didn’t have many vegetables at this time of year, the farm was overflowing with green life during the summer. Blake loved the pumpkin patch, which Yang told her was a popular place for young families to take pictures.

She admired the view from the top of the hill. Below was a barren field and a small grove of apple trees. All around it, the autumn colors filled the trees in fiery oranges, reds, and yellows. It was beautiful.

“I need to get these apples picked. There’s bound to be a lot of windfall apples after that storm. The pigs will be happy about that,” Yang said, joining Blake at the hilltop. She looked over the land in satisfaction, touched Blake lightly on the arm, then turned away.

The one change that Blake did notice that afternoon was that Yang seemed less hesitant to offer a casual touch. She took Blake by the hand to lead her to where lots of large baskets were kept. “If there’s too many apples, I can get the tractor to give us a hand. Going up and down the hill all afternoon is exhausting, especially with all those apples. But first, I’m going to make us some sandwiches. It’s too nice of a day to eat lunch inside.”

The amount of energy Yang had was impressive. Anything she did on her own was done at a run, and she hardly needed to take a breath amid her chatter. Blake supposed she needed to have lots of energy if she was a farmer, but this seemed like more than just energy. Yang was just bubbly. It was refreshing. Members of the White Fang didn’t tend to be this way. They were always so guarded. Yang, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have any desire to be like that.

Blake had no idea how many apples they’d be collecting, so she pulled a few baskets out of the shed. She thought about it, then pulled out a whole stack of them. It was better to have too many than not enough, she decided. 

Just as she was wondering where Yang had gotten to, she heard a loud rumbling sound. Alarmed, she turned toward the barn, where Yang was driving a large green tractor out of. Blake’s eyebrows shot up and saw a small, open trailer was hitched behind it.

As she pulled up to Blake, Yang stuck her head out of the cab. “Put the baskets on the trailer. It’ll be a tight fit for two of us in here, but Ruby and I did this all the time.”

That certainly sounded ominous, but Blake did as she was told. She climbed up, but to her dismay, there was only one seat. Yang scooted as far forward as she could. “Get behind me and hold on.”

Unsettled, she straddled the seat and held tightly to Yang’s waist. Blake had never been on a roller coaster, but she feared this might be how one might feel.

“Banzai!” Yang yelled, slamming the accelerator.

Blake was pleased and surprised to find that she was not, in fact, dead when they reached the apple trees. Yang was roaring with laughter as she eased the tractor to a halt. Blake realized not just her hands were digging into the farmer’s sides, but her nails. She let go immediately, stammering an apology.

“Hm?” Yang finally turned to Blake. Her lilac eyes were twinkling.

“I didn’t mean to-- are you gonna bruise?” Blake’s arms locked down at her sides, as if touching Yang again might injure her further. Yang raised an eyebrow, then lifted the hem of one side of her shirt. On the pale, smooth flesh were five small indentations from Blake’s fingernails. 

“You’ve killed me,” Yang told her solemnly. The grave look on her face lasted all of two seconds before she broke once more into laughter. “Relax. I don’t bruise easy.”

She let go of her hem as Blake fought another round of embarrassment. “Sorry. I was just… a little nervous, I guess.”

“Dad is always worried Ruby and I are going to kill ourselves in this tractor someday,” she replied, patting the green monster’s steering wheel fondly. “You get up first. I’m stuck.”

The actual chore of picking apples was less eventful than the ride down. In a way, there was something good about manual labor like this. It was… fulfilling. Yang had tried to describe the different varieties of apples, but ended up forgetting some of their names. “I missed apple-picking last year. I was in college that semester.”

“What were you studying?”

“Pre-law. I dropped out, though. It just wasn’t my scene. Do you think you’ll ever go to college?”

Blake laughed out loud at that. “Are you kidding? I didn’t even finish middle school. I ran away to join the White Fang.”

“Shit, I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

An awkward silence passed between them as they filled up their baskets. Yang tried to keep the different varieties in order, but since the baskets were unlabelled, that was a harder task than anticipated. Yang encouraged Blake to taste the different kinds, to try and tell the difference between the varieties. It was difficult to tell with Blake’s unrefined palate, but Yang assured her that knowledge like that would come with time and practice.

“Ruby is more a fan of the sweet apples,” Yang told her as they heaved a basket onto the trailer. “When we were younger, we’d come down here during harvest and eat enough apples to make us sick. These are so much better than store-bought apples, y’know, and we were so proud that we’d helped… _create_ something. We could bring home all the test scores we wanted, but _this_ is true accomplishment.”

Blake offered Yang a smile. “You almost make me want to be a farmer.”

“You’re learning now, though,” Yang pointed out. “It’s never too late. Dad was much older than we were when he bought this place. And he learned everything from scratch and a _lot_ of trial and error.”

“He sounds like a good man.” Blake ignored the sharp pain of picturing her own father. He’d want nothing to do with her after all this time. It was time to focus on the future. “So, what’s your favorite kind of apple?”

Yang walked around the trailer to a basket that had streaked red-green apples. She picked up one of the ones on top and tossed it in one hand. “This is a local variety, first developed just outside of Vale. This kind is called _Tryst_. I like it because it isn’t _too_ sweet, like the ones Ruby likes. Just a hint of sweetness.” She took a bite, and Blake could hear the sharp crunch between her teeth. When she swallowed, she added, “We like to use it in cider.”

“Cider?”

“Dad has a cider press, so we make cider this time of year. We sell it sometimes, too. It’s really good. He wants me to bring some to Vale this weekend for him.” Yang held the apple out to Blake. She reached out to take it, then realized Yang was holding it in front of her mouth for her. Blake blushed, hesitated, then took a bite of the apple. Tart, but a touch of sweet.

They ate their sandwiches as they worked. Yang once again bragged that everything in the sandwich was sourced from the farm. The bread itself was made by Yang, the ham came from their own pigs, and even the cheese was made with the milk their goats produced that summer.

“We’re too busy to make our own cheese, so we work with an actual cheesemaker to get that done. But she and dad have an arrangement where they both profit, and we can sell the cheese at the farmer’s market,” she called to Blake from the top of the ladder. “So much of farming is all about networking. One person can’t do _everything_.”

“Makes sense,” she agreed. It worked like that in the White Fang, too. One person couldn’t do a whole job by themselves. She hadn’t thought about farming in that way before, but it sounded right. “Just like how a person can’t run an entire farm by themselves?”

She looked slyly up at Yang, who’d stopped what she was doing. The blonde looked bemused. “I was doing all right. Physically, I could totally do it.”

“But you’ve been on your own for weeks now, right?”

Yang looked down at Blake. There was a smile, though it was faint. “It was harder than I thought it would be. I like a sprinkling of fun in my work, but there’s none of that when you’re by yourself.”

“Or, even if you’re not by yourself, things can still be miserable,” Blake added softly. Yang’s brow furrowed in mild concern. “But I haven’t been miserable. Not since coming here.”

“Having you around has made me happier, too, I think,” Yang commented, choosing that moment to descend. Her words made Blake’s heart warm. “So, y’know, I… I think I’m glad you decided to sneak into the hayloft.” Yang’s lips twitched as her grin widened. She was face-to-face with Blake now. “Trespassing or not. Who knows? Maybe that storm happened for a reason.”

“If only it had happened just a few hours later. Then I wouldn’t haven’t gotten sick.” Blake laughed. Yang waved an impatient hand.

“If you didn’t get sick, who knows if we would have really talked?” Yang pressed. “You might be in Vale by now.”

Blake nodded. The wind gusted, sending their hair flying across their faces. Yang laughed, spreading her arms into the wind, as if she might take flight. To Blake, the wind was too cold, so she pulled Yang’s jacket back on.

Yang checked over the baskets to make sure the apples wouldn’t fly out as they went up the hill. Blake watched her, unsure if she should say anything else. Deciding to hell with it, she reached her hand out for Yang’s hand. She looked over at Blake, an eyebrow quirked quizzically. 

“Thank you,” Blake said, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks. “Really. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Yang’s smile, always ready and waiting, spread across her face. She squeezed Blake’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here. For you _and_ for me.” She looked up at the sky. “Let’s get going back. I think it’s going to start drizzling.”

The ride back up the hill was much slower, to Blake’s relief. She didn’t know if it was because of the incline or because of the apples, but she knew to count her blessings while she could. Despite the decrease in speed, she still clung to Yang’s waist, careful not to use her nails. As the tractor ran over a rock, Blake gasped a little and wrapped her arms around Yang completely. She felt Yang’s chuckle reverberate into her arms, but she said nothing.

Even after the episode with the rock seemed to be over, Blake made the conscious decision to not let go.

The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to learn more about the farm. Even though Yang tried to explain the cider press to her, Blake couldn’t understand how it worked. Still, the whole process fascinated her. She was eager to try to cider for herself, but Yang teased her, telling her that they’d wait until dinner. 

Yang regaled Blake with stories about the farm as they worked. It seemed every little part of of the farm had its own story to tell. “Now, even the hayloft has a story!” Yang told her gleefully. Blake couldn’t help her laughter. How could laughing be such an easy thing to do? It felt like she’d almost forgotten how to use her muscles in that way, but now that she was laughing again, Yang had her doing it _all_ the time.

“I know this is a lot to take in, but you’ll get used to it. This isn’t our busy season, so it’s not going to be too much of a mess. At least, until the goats start kidding, but we’ve got time before that. You’ll be a pro by then!” 

“I’m a little nervous about kidding,” Blake admitted. They were back in the barn, where Yang was trying to explain goats. Pam kept interrupting the conversation by trying to jump up on Blake.

“It’s not _that_ bad. It’s just hectic. And it can be upsetting sometimes, but really, most of the time, it’s uneventful.” Though Yang was trying to be reassuring, she must have figured out that it wasn’t. She was grimacing before the last words were out of her mouth. “Okay, I guess I’m not selling it well. But for the most part, it’s amazing. And the babies are so little and so adorable!”

“And you’ll tell me what to do every step of the way?”

“Absolutely.”

Pam gave up on them and waddled toward the little door. As she tried stepping out, another goat pushed her way in, knocking Pam out of the way. Yang rolled her eyes.

“That’s Tammy.”

Blake was laughing again. She couldn’t help it. A _goat_ with a name like _Tammy_?! Yang ended up joining in.

“Again, my dad has lost all naming privileges. Promise.”

“So, in Vale…” Blake asked after a moment, “how’s that all going to work?”

“What do you mean?”

“The farmers’ market. Then… shopping? And… cider for your dad?”

“It’ll be a busy day! The market is usually over by 1. There’s a lot of stores near it, including a feed store that sells work boots. Dad will probably meet us while the market is going on. Maybe he’ll even bring Ruby!”

“Have you told him about me yet?”

“I told him that one of my friends offered to help me out,” Yang replied. “I didn’t necessarily say how we met, but he knows someone is helping me out now. He sounded happy about that.” She paused, then added, “He didn’t really like that I was by myself.”

Blake nodded. The more she thought about it, the more surprised she was that Yang had insisted on working on her own. Bubbly people like this didn’t usually end up being loners. Yang had warmed to her right away, which made Blake think she wasn’t really an introvert like herself. It made little sense. 

“We’re about done for the day. Wanna watch a movie?” Yang swung the stall door open, gesturing for Blake to go through first. 

“Sure.”

Yang hesitated when she shut the door. “I know farming isn’t really the most glamorous job. It’s hard work, and messy… If you want to live in Vale after all, I won’t be offended.”

Blake stared at her, disbelieving. “What?”

Looking a bit sheepish, Yang turned back to face her. “I know I’m probably a little too excited about having someone over. I don’t want you to feel like you _have_ to work with me because of that, though. People don’t really grow up, hoping to strike it rich as a farmer. Whatever. What I mean is, don’t feel like you _have_ to stay here out of a sense of gratitude or something.”

This about-face didn’t seem like her. She gave Yang a curious look, noticing an odd flush to the woman’s cheeks. “I already told you I want to stay. Several times, actually.”

Yang didn't look convinced. She started to open her mouth, but Blake put up a hand to stop her.

“It's not because I felt like I have to. If I didn't feel I was cut out for this, I'd at least tell you that. Trust me. As far as I can tell, though… I think I can handle the work.” She hesitated, then reached for Yang's hand again. “You've made me feel safe here. And wanted. And I'll be damned if you haven't fed me the best food I've ever had.”

Yang blinked, then a grin broke across her face. She squeezed Blake's hand.

“So, no. I'm not staying because I feel like I _have_ to. I _want_ to. I promise.”

“Sorry,” Yang finally told her with a shaky laugh. “I sounded sorta pathetic there.”

“Not pathetic,” Blake said firmly. “But what made you bring it up? Other than to protect my own precious feelings.” She gave Yang an amused smile. 

For once, the smile went unreturned. Yang frowned a little, then shook her head. “I think everyone's got their own kind of demon hanging off their back,” she said at last. She reached up, and Blake was surprised at herself for not wincing as Yang's feather-light touch caressed the bruise that was finally fading from her neck. “Not necessarily physical ones,” she amended, voice soft, “but they live there all the same.”

“Well,” Blake replied, “if you ever need to unload yours, even for a little bit… I can listen.” She hesitated, then added quickly, “Because I have an extra set of ears. That means I'm twice as good as listening as anyone else.”

She'd hoped that would elicit some of Yang’s uproarious laughter. Instead, there was only a smile as Yang slipped a hand around Blake, resting on the small of her back.

“Sweetheart,” she announced in an exaggerated drawl, “as long as you can make jokes like that, you're going to fit in here just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any confusion! I always intended this to have more than one chapter, but my dumb butt forgot to check that item off when I submitted the first chapter. And here I was, wondering, "Hurr durr, why do people keep saying I should continue this?" That, ladies and gentlemen, is me in a nutshell. Anyway, enjoy this and the subsequent chapters!


	3. Chapter 3

Blake dreaded waking up each morning. It had nothing to do with the farm work she did with Yang. The heavy manual labor was challenging to get used to, but it helped Blake fall asleep with no problems. For those first few blissful hours, her body was too exhausted to create the nightmares that tried to plague her. 

But there was always one ready by morning.

She'd awaken from them, fearful and disoriented. It would take her a few minutes to fumble with the light switch and realize where she was.

“I'm safe,” she would whisper to herself over and over. “I'm safe.”

As the nightmares came progressively earlier in the night as those few days went by, Blake chose to stay awake rather than risk another round of nightmares. When she was awake, she knew she was safe. Her body recognized that safety, and it was even possible to think about her dreams without that familiar terror.

The day of the farmers’ market, Yang woke up earlier than usual. Blake, already awake, decided that she'd take a turn making breakfast. She stacked the last slice of French toast on the plate when Yang stepped into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. Unlike Blake, she was still in her pajamas, her thick hair unbrushed. She stared at the breakfast spread in disbelief.

“Well, this is a surprise!” She pulled out a chair and plopped into it. “I didn't know you could cook.”

“I know a few things. Dishes are on you, though.” 

Yang's sleepy grin was nonetheless a bright one. “I suppose I can manage that. Damn, how early did you get up to make all this?”

“About forty-five minutes ago,” Blake lied.

“ _Annnnnnnnkkkkk_!” She nearly jumped at the buzzer-like noise that came out of Yang’s mouth. “Wrong. Let’s try again.”

Blake went scarlet. “Fine. I got up around four.”

Yang repeated the hideous sound. She no longer looked so sleepy; her challenging look to Blake was fully alert. “One more time. The truth.”

Blake groaned and turned away from that stern gaze. “Fine. Three.”

“That’s more like it,” Yang told her. “I might not have known, but I had to pee in the middle of the night. I saw your light on. _Then_ I had trouble getting back to sleep, so I thought I’d check your door one more time. It was still on a half-hour later.”

Blake said nothing as she set a plate in front of Yang. She held her silence as she finished setting the table, hoping that Yang would drop the subject. She didn’t.

“You’re gonna end up dropping from exhaustion if you don’t sleep,” she reminded Blake. “Is there something I can do to help?”

“No. I’ll get over it.”

“Will you be okay in Vale today? The market gets really busy, and if you’re tired...”

“I’ll be fine. Really.”

They had loaded the trailer up the night before with all the things that didn’t need to be refrigerated. Yang seemed to have an organizational method, and though she was nice about it, getting everything into its proper place was almost more frustrating than the actual farm work. Her arms were aching as she lifted one more heavy pumpkin into place. A muscle in her back had seemed to scream, so as soon as the pumpkin was set down, she reached an arm around to massage the painful spot.

“Are you all right?” Yang had asked as Blake got down from the trailer.

“I think I pulled a muscle or something,” she mumbled.

“It takes some time for your body to get used to this sort of thing. You’re not bending over, are you? That’s really bad for your back. It’ll give you a hump.”

“That isn’t true,” Blake retorted, laughing despite her pain. Yang had shrugged, giving her a smirk.

“I wouldn’t test the theory.”

When they’d gotten back to the house, Yang had told her how her dad used to see a massage therapist regularly when he first started the farm. “In between visits, he’d have me and Ruby do what we could for him. He always teased that if we dropped out of school, we could have a future giving massages. Of course, it wasn’t as funny when I really did drop out, but still… I’ve got some skills.”

“Are you offering to give me a massage?” Blake had tried to play it cool. If she tried acting like she wasn’t blushing, maybe she wouldn’t. 

“Do you want one? I think they really do help.”

And that was how she had ended up face-down on the couch that night, Yang’s hands pressing into her back. The tank top that lay between those hands and Blake’s back had seemed almost embarrassingly thin. Blake grunted with pain as Yang’s hands kneaded the sore muscle, but she let Yang continue. She’d never had any kind of massage before, professional or amateur. Other than the aching muscle, it actually felt kind of nice.

She had sat up when it was all over, trying to smooth her disheveled hair away from her eyes. Yang looked amused.

“So? What’d you think?”

“It _did_ feel good,” Blake had admitted. “Thank you.”

Yang had shrugged one shoulder, but hadn’t stopped gazing intently at her. Blake tried to smile.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I just hadn’t realized how beautiful you are.”

Though Blake’s face had burned for the rest of the evening, those were the words she had been replaying in her head as she fell asleep.

Now, as they loaded up coolers of goods, Blake had to admit that her back didn’t hurt this morning. Just _what_ had Yang meant by calling her beautiful? She had said it in such a nonchalant way that Blake had no idea how to interpret it. The only person who ever called her beautiful was Adam, and usually that was when he wanted something or after a beating. Or when he wanted to show everyone what a good boyfriend he was, she thought dismally. With Yang, it had sprung out of nowhere. Did she want something from Blake?

She couldn’t exactly deny that she _liked_ it when Yang said that. If anything, that only made matters worse. Blake couldn’t claim to look at the situation from a cold, analytical point of view. Some part of her, deep inside of herself, had been hungry for Yang’s words.

It was still dark when they pulled away from the farm in Yang’s pickup, the trailer bumping along behind them. It was the first time Blake had been in a car since that first hitchhike away from Adam, and she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. The trees that flew by were dark and menacing. Nothing about them indicated the safe haven she’d found so near.

“You can take a nap if you want,” Yang suggested. “It’s a couple hours to Vale.” She took swig of coffee from her travel mug.

“I don’t think I can sleep.”

“How come?” Yang’s purple eyes flickered over to Blake, who shrugged. She knew what Yang was getting at.

“I just haven’t been sleeping well to begin with. Sleeping in a moving vehicle is bound to make it harder,” she replied, her voice even. Yang shrugged. “So why sell in Vale? Aren’t you spending a fortune on gas for this truck?”

“We started off selling at the local farmers’ markets, but the communities around here are small, and a lot of them grow their own produce. Not as much need for us.” Blake noticed the small smile. As predicted, Yang was getting so caught up in telling Blake about the farm that the question of her sleep was being forgotten. “The people in Vale, though, are city people. There’s a big market for people who want fresh stuff. We make a killing there. It’s easily worth the gas and the four hour round trip.”

It was too early for either of them to come up with much conversation, so most of the ride was silent. Blake wouldn’t have minded this ordinarily, but her mind kept flashing back and forth from Adam and the things he’d done, to Yang and her smile. From terror to confusion to peace. Were brains meant to hold so many conflicting emotions?

At one point, Yang put some music on and started thrusting her head around with the beat, sometimes mumble-singing the lyrics under her breath. Blake couldn’t hold in her laughter at the strange noises she made with the intense rock music. Yang immediately stopped to stick a tongue out at her.

“Long rides are boring. You have to entertain yourself somehow,” she said defensively. Blake nodded in agreement.

“And bonus points when you entertain the passenger, right?”

“You know it.” Yang slid her sunglasses on. “I know how to entertain.”

They stopped once to fill up with gas, but aside from that, they made no stops until they got to Vale. After nearly a week in the country, being in a city was a shock. The size of the buildings, the amount of cars and people, and the sounds… how had she thought she would ever miss this? It was almost too overwhelming, but Yang was a rock, weaving in and out of traffic with ease. 

“You’d think that there wouldn’t be a rush hour on a Saturday morning,” she grumbled. She honked the horn. “THIS IS A PASSING LANE, JACKASS!”

Blake rested her head against the window. The exhaustion was catching up with her, but watching Yang in the city was something she had no desire to miss.

The market itself was in a small park. Vendors of all sorts were setting up tables and tents. Yang rolled a banner in front of their check-out table. “Summer’s Acres” was written in flowy letters, framed by roses. Blake hadn’t realized that the farm had a name at all. She asked Yang about it, who gave her a sad smile.

“My mom’s name was Summer Rose. Dad wanted to name the farm in her memory.”

That shut Blake up.

Selling the goods and dealing with people was easier than Blake had expected. Yang, of course, made it look easy. She was greeting customers by name, laughing with them as she rang up their payments. While Blake hadn’t gotten to that level, her fear that these strangers might somehow know who she was evaporated quickly. Even the Faunus who stopped by seemed easy to talk to. It had been so long since she had been able to talk to non-White Fang Faunus that she’d forgotten it was possible to have casual conversations with them.

“ _YANG_!” a high-pitched voice screeched. Yang looked up from her conversation, a grin spreading across her face. 

“Ruby!” 

It took a moment for Blake to see that the red blur was actually a person. It collided with Yang, but Yang seemed braced for impact. The two figures laughed, Yang twirling the smaller one around in a circle.

“I’ve missed you, little sis!” Yang finally announced, dropping the girl to her feet. It was then Blake recognized Ruby from the pictures on display at the house. Posed, Ruby had seemed almost calm. In real life, it was clear Ruby was no such thing. The girl was quivering with delight. 

“I’ve missed you, too! I wanted to come last week, but I got in trouble and couldn’t leave campus.”

“You? In trouble? No way!” 

Blake watched their exchange warily. She was nervous about how she’d be received by Yang’s family. She’d made sure to wear her own jacket so that she could button the collar around her neck so as to hide the hodgepodge of color that were the fading bruises. But what would Yang say about how they met?

“All right, sweetheart, you promised me some cider.”

“Dad!” 

Blake smiled as father and daughter embraced. Again, there was that pang in her heart. She missed her parents. She wished she didn’t feel this jealousy, that Yang and her father were so close. But it was there.

“How are ya, kiddo? How are the goats? Nobody’s kidded yet, right?”

“Just checked them this morning. They’re fine. I bet Matcha is having quads again, she’s enormous,” Yang told him, her words tumbling out of her mouth faster than Blake had ever seen. The man approached the table where Blake sat. He was taller and much fitter than she expected him to be, and much more casual. He wore a faded t-shirt with the name of some band she didn’t recognize. He didn’t look much like a teacher at all. She took a deep breath, then stood up.

“Dad, this is Blake. She moved in last week, and she’s been so much help!”

The blonde man smiled and extended a hand to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Blake. I’m Taiyang. I’m so glad you offered to help Yang out. I know she’s been doing well, but you know, I’m a dad. I get worried when my little girl is all alone!” He moved faster than Yang did, putting her in a headlock and shaking her a little. Yang growled.

“Dad, knock it off, we’re in public!”

Laughing, Taiyang let go. Yang shook her hair out.

“Daaaaad, they’ve got macarons! Can I get some?!” Ruby asked, tugging his sleeve and pointing at another stall. 

“What happened to your allowance?” he asked, suspicious.

“Y’know, one minute, I had it! And the next minute, it was cookies.” Ruby gave a hopeless shrug.

“She _does_ have a sweet tooth,” Blake commented to Yang under her breath. Ruby looked at her, eyes wide.

“What has she told you?!” she demanded of Blake. 

“All of your secrets!” Yang cackled. 

“So how do you know Yang?” Taiyang asked, ignoring his daughters’ antics. Blake blushed.

“I…”

“College. Didn’t I tell you already?” Yang interrupted. “She lived right down the hall from me.”

“Did she?”

“Is she one of the ones who got you out of-- _ow_!” Ruby whined as she hopped around on her foot. Yang had stepped on Ruby’s foot so quickly that Blake had almost missed what happened. The expression on her face now almost scared Blake. 

“Nothing to do with that,” she told Ruby flatly.

“Speaking of,” Taiyang said. He pulled something out of his messenger bag and held it out to Yang. A newspaper. “This came out this week. Page seven. I think karma’s been served.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Yang mumbled. She took the newspaper and shoved it into her own bag without sparing it a glance. Blake stared at the paper curiously, but when Yang looked up at her, she gave Blake an almost imperceptible shake of her head. She took the hint.

Conversation picked up again as the talk transitioned back to farm life. Taiyang was asking about particular goats, promising he’d be there on the weekends during kidding season. He even asked Blake her opinion on his favorites, one of which was Pam.

Blake tried to focus on the customers during the family reunion, but she kept one ear on the alert for their conversation. Ruby spent a while talking about her latest exploits at Signal. The reason she had been grounded last weekend, she explained, was because she’d been having a little too much fun pantsing people.

“She pantsed Uncle Qrow,” Taiyang informed them severely. “In the classroom.”

“It’s _funny_ because he’s my _uncle_!” Ruby shrieked in triumph. 

Both Yang and Blake burst into laughter at the same time. Even Taiyang couldn’t resist a chuckle, despite his attempt at a stern demeanor. 

“He has a bottle of scotch named after you, you know,” he finally scolded Ruby. “He only drinks out of it when you cause him grief. It’s almost gone now.”

“Yeah, but how big’s the bottle? That’s the real question!” Yang pointed out, laughing again.

They stuck around for about an hour before Taiyang had to go back to the school. Ruby tried to convince him to stay longer, but he was firm. “I know for a fact that you haven’t even started your history essay, young lady.”

He hugged Yang goodbye and gave Blake a clap on the back. Ruby held nothing back, choosing to give Blake a tight hug before speeding away.

“They’re nice,” she commented when the two had left with their cider. “What does your dad teach?”

“Writing and rhetoric,” Yang replied, but her voice was distant. She was smiling sadly into the direction where they’d left. “I miss them already.”

Blake put a hand on Yang’s shoulder. She blinked and shook her head, finally looking away from where she was staring. She turned back to Blake. 

“Thanks,” was all she said, giving her a weak smile.

Packing up the truck after the market was a lot easier than it was the night before. Blake had been surprised at how much they’d sold. Yang had been right about the people in Vale wanting fresh food. The pumpkins alone had sold out. There was so much free space in the trailer now that Blake almost didn’t recognize it.

“Now we can actually get you some clothes. I kept worrying I’d have to make an excuse for why you’re wearing Ruby’s boots, but she didn’t notice. She’s not very observant, but still… I worried.”

Blake let her babble. Her energy was flagging, and she couldn’t keep up with Yang’s train of chatter. Yang, meanwhile, had filled her travel mug back up with coffee. If she wanted to, Blake thought, she could start and maintain a conversation with herself with all that caffeine.

Due to her tiredness, shopping was difficult that afternoon. Blake felt like a sleepwalker as Yang picked out different clothes for her to try on. She couldn’t even argue at what she would have normally considered to be too many clothes. She could only nod at Yang’s suggestions.

The boots were even more difficult. Trying different ones on required walking around. She didn’t even know what she was looking for in a boot. When Yang asked her what she thought of a particular pair, she had no idea what to say. The exhaustion-fog was too much.

Yet somehow, she walked out of the store in a new pair of boots. Yang had insisted that she get some sandals, too, for casual wear. Blake tried not to worry about the prices for the time being, but she had insisted on keeping the receipts. She wanted to make sure that it would all come out of her future paychecks. 

“You all right, Blake? You’re looking kinda pale,” Yang told her when they got back to the truck.

“I’m just really tired.”

“Then let’s grab something to eat and go home. I’m pretty tired, too.”

“Haven’t you been taking your coffee practically intravenously?” Blake asked her with a wan smile.

“Of course not. I don’t do drugs like that. How unsanitary,” Yang said with disdain. She paused, a mischievous glint appearing in her eye. “I like to snort coffee beans instead.”

_The truck rumbled down the road faster than it had this morning. Blake was a little nervous. She could see the dial on the speedometer had gone too far past the speed limit. “Hey, Yang, maybe we should slow down a little.”_

_“Don’t be such a backseat driver!” Yang replied, waving a hand in dismissal. She wasn’t looking at Blake, choosing instead to stare straight ahead. Her blonde hair hung alongside her face, preventing Blake from seeing what expression might be there._

_“Going this fast is making me a little nervous…”_

_The trees were speeding by at an alarming rate now. She gripped the oh-shit handle over her head._

_“Yang, please… stop…”_

_And suddenly, she knew that it wasn’t Yang sitting in the driver’s seat. Begging Adam to stop was something she had done so many times before. Of course it wouldn’t work on him now._

_Yang-not-Yang turned her head slowly to Blake. She wasn’t looking at the road now, but it didn’t matter. The mask belonged to Adam._

_This face_ was _Adam._

_Blake screamed._

She shot awake, gasping. Where was she? In a truck. In the dark. Trees were ahead of her. This was a parking lot.

_Where was Yang?_

Panic spiked through her body as she twisted this way and that, looking for Yang. She pulled frantically at the handle of the truck, but it was locked. In her terror, she couldn’t figure out how to unlock it. She was hyperventilating, her breaths rushing in and out too quickly for her to catch. _Where was Yang?_

She managed to roll down the window just as Yang approached, holding a coffee. She raised her eyebrows. “Blake? Are you okay?”

“Can you… please... come back in here?” She was unaware of her own breathlessness, or her pallid features, but Yang wasn’t. 

Yang didn’t even bother with the driver’s side. She dropped her coffee and raced to where Blake was withdrawing from the window, hitting the unlock button on her key and heaving herself in.

She pulled Blake close to her chest. She held her there, tightly, as Blake suddenly broke down. Huge, shuddering sobs and gasps wracked her body. Through it, Yang held on, rubbing her back and making shushing sounds. “You’re safe,” she murmured. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

 _You’re safe_. The words Blake had been using like a mantra, to ground herself back in reality after waking from those nightmares. She didn’t know if Yang knew the effect those words had, but she was grateful all the same. But now that the floodgates were opened, she couldn’t stop. She clung to Yang, burying her face in her chest as the sobs flowed through her.

She was dimly aware that Yang’s face was buried in her hair, between the cat ears that were lying flat against her head. She felt swallowed in Yang, encased in the safety she offered. Her shuddering slowly began to subside, though the tears still came out in steady streams.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled brokenly into Yang’s chest. “I just… keep having nightmares. They wake me up. And sometimes, I don’t remember where I am. They make me so… disoriented. So when I woke up here, just now… oh, God, he was pretending to be _you_ … I was _so scared_.”

Yang rubbed up and down on Blake’s back, though her face didn’t move from where it nestled in her hair. The heavy sobs were gone, but Blake whimpered as she recalled the dream. Yang kissed the top of her head lightly, then lifted her own back up in order to speak.

“It was a nightmare, baby. No more than that. That’s their power. They’ll try to get you at night so you’ll be afraid in the day. He will _never_ be me.” Blake couldn’t see Yang’s face, but the vibrations of her words as she talked was soothing. “Is this why you’ve been having trouble sleeping?”

“Whenever I wake up from that… I can’t stand the thought of closing my eyes again, even for a minute. When I do… all I can see is everything he’s ever done to me.”

She was weeping again, but Yang continued to hold her. In a moment of self-conscious panic, Blake tried to pull back, but Yang still didn’t let go. “Let me hold you for a little while,” she told Blake softly.

Blake couldn’t say how long they stayed there, Yang holding her on the passenger side of the pickup truck. For however long it lasted, it was the first sense of real safety Blake could recall for a long, long time. Even if Adam had been hunting her down that very minute, Yang would have been there with her. This was the person who could help her out of her nightmares. She could have stayed forever in the cocoon of Yang’s arms.

Yang was kissing the top of her head again and Blake felt flooded with warmth at the intimate touch. She snuggled closer into her.

“We’re about an hour away from home,” Yang told her eventually. “I’ll close up the animals and bring in the cold goods. Easy stuff. I want you to sleep in my bed tonight, with me. If you wake up and get scared, I’ll be there. I can help you get some sleep again.”

Blake’s head buzzed as she tried to figure out what Yang was telling her. On one hand, she hated feeling like a small child, afraid of the dark. On the other… Yang grounded her. If she forgot where she was in the middle of the night, Yang would be there to remind her. To hold her.

Slowly, she nodded her head. 

Blake stumbled through the house in a daze. Every so often, a violent shiver would course through her body, but other than that, she was subdued. She’d somehow managed to brush her teeth and put on one of her new pairs of pajamas, but that evening had left her drained and confused. Yang wasn’t back in the house yet, so she wasn’t sure what she should do. Since she was sleeping in Yang’s room tonight, she didn’t think she should go to Ruby’s room. At the same time, she felt uncomfortable going into Yang’s room without her there. In the end, she decided to sit on the couch. Not to watch television-- she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on that even if her life depended on it. Just to sit.

She heard the door open, then close. The rustling sounds of Yang taking off her jacket and boots. “Hey, Blake. How’re you feeling?”

“I’m… not sure.”

“I don’t blame you.” Yang came around the side of the couch, looking down at Blake with clear concern. “C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.”

Blake hadn’t stepped foot inside Yang’s room yet, she realized distantly and Yang drew back the blankets for her. Her door had always been closed, and Blake had respected her privacy. It was neater than she thought it would be, decorated with posters and candles. Like Ruby’s, the bed was full-sized, which meant it would be a little cozy for two people.

“I’ll join you in a minute. Just need to brush my teeth and change.” 

Blake nodded, then slipped under the covers. She buried her face in the pillow. It smelled of smoke, of something flowery, of coffee. Blake closed her eyes.

Her doze was interrupted when Yang climbed in from the other side, shifting the blankets just enough to rouse her. Blake turned onto her other side, facing Yang.

“Do you snore?” Yang asked.

“No. Do you?”

“Maybe a little. Will that bother you?”

“No.”

They looked at each other in silence for a minute. It was hard to read Yang’s expression in the dark.

“Thanks for letting me… sleep here,” Blake finally said. “You’ve been too good to me.”

Under the covers, Yang’s hand found Blake’s. “Someone’s got to start making up for all the bad in your life.”

Blake smiled a little and squeezed Yang’s hand. “You make me feel so... safe,” she admitted.

“C’mere.”

Still holding Yang’s hand, Blake wriggled close to her. Yang closed the distance, pulling Blake’s body into her own and wrapping her arms around her. Blake rested her head over Yang’s heart. It was hard to tell, but it seemed to be beating rather quickly. Was her own beating this fast?

“I really don’t mean to be such a… I don’t know.” She shook her head. But Yang had put a finger to Blake’s lips.

“Enough of that. Relax. It’s okay to be vulnerable. God knows, we all need someone to look after us from time to time.” She shook her head with a knowing smile. “It’s better than dealing with this shit alone.”

“Right.” Blake buried her face into Yang. The heat felt good against her face, the softness of her body comforting, the stroking hands on her back soothing. This was what peace was.

If she woke up in the middle of the night, Yang would be there to bring her back to reality. She felt the relief, deep in her heart, that for once, there was someone there to catch her.

Yang’s soft kiss to the top of her head was longer than a peck. “Get some rest, baby. You need it.”

Losing herself to sleep had never been easier than in the shelter of Yang’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya know, I was going to wait another day or so before posting this chapter, but I'm CELEBRATING the end of my real-life kidding season! My last mama goat had adorable twins. And now I can stop stressing for a while. If you're interested in pics, check out my twitter. Nothing is cuter than tiny baby goats. Tonight, I can pop the champagne.
> 
> That said... any name suggestions?


	4. Chapter 4

Sunlight was streaming in through the windows. Blake blinked sleepily, relieved that for once, she knew where she was. Yang’s room smelled so delightfully like her that Blake couldn’t have been mistaken. Then she realized it wasn’t just Yang’s room she was smelling. Her head was lay on the farmer’s lap, with Yang’s hand resting on the stretch of skin that had come uncovered when Blake’s shirt twisted up.

She remembered, then, the nightmare that had come to her that night. The terror, her gasping. Her thrashing around had awakened Yang, who wrapped her arms tightly around Blake once more. “I’m here, baby, I’m here. You’re safe.”

Yang had sat herself up and pulled Blake’s head into her lap, rubbing her side and her back until she’d drifted off again. At this memory, Blake’s cheeks reddened. Yang was going to be stiff this morning, if this was how she’d slept since the nightmare had happened.

Her own neck had a bit of a crick in it, so she pulled herself off of Yang gingerly. That movement awakened Yang, who grunted and rolled her head around. Blake winced at the loud pop.

“G’morning, darlin’,” Yang said with a yawn. “How’re you feeling?”

“Rested. I think I slept better than I have in years,” Blake admitted. “You didn’t need to sit up all night, though... How are _you_ feeling?”

“Oh! I’m good. Once we get to work, my muscles will figure themselves out again.” Yang shrugged. “You weren’t kidding about those nightmares.”

Blake looked down, ashamed at what had happened the night before. Now, in the daylight, it was easier to call herself weak for being so needy, so desperate, so--

“I can tell you're worrying about it. Please don't.” Yang reached over to slide an arm around Blake. Instinctively, she slid closer to Yang to lay against her. It was so remarkable how much comfort the simple body-to-body contact offered. Yang caressed her arm, not hesitating at all as her fingers moved across the puckered scars of old cigarette burns. “You've been through a _lot_. I don't blame you for having bad dreams about it. And I especially don't mind being here for you. Is there an opposite to _minding_ , actually?”

Blake surrendered a smile. “You mean _liking_?”

“That sounds about right!” Yang gave her arm a light squeeze before adding, “And holding you feels right, too.” Blake went scarlet, but Yang went on. “We should probably get up, though. We overslept a little. Is cereal okay for breakfast?”

Though Blake was loathe to give up Yang’s warmth, common sense overruled. It was bad form to oversleep on a farm where animals depended on you. So they got up, acting for all the world like it was just another day on the farm. Blake appreciated that Yang wasn’t treating her any differently. Their conversation throughout that morning bounced from the day at the market, to Blake’s thoughts on Taiyang and Ruby, and shopping in the city. They talked about anything, essentially, that wasn’t related to her nightmares.

“Ouch, this had to hurt,” Yang told Blake, wincing, as she pulled a massive egg out of one of the nesting boxes. Blake let out a low whistle. It completely filled Yang’s palm. “I bet it’s a double-yolker.”

“Should we check the hens? To make sure whoever laid this is okay?” Blake’s tone was dubious, and she knew Yang would shake her head even before she did it.

“Whoever it is is probably fine. Chickens are tougher than… no. That’s a lie. Chickens aren’t very tough. But they’re great at laying eggs. Even big ones like this.”

“So that's a no on the Preparation H?”

“Tell you what. If she needs it, I'll let you do honors,” Yang assured her with a smirk.

There was a hen sitting in the next nesting box Blake checked out. She reached a hand toward the hen, intending to pull out any eggs underneath, but the hen made a warbling noise before giving Blake a quick peck.

“What the--?” Blake jumped back in surprise. Yang snorted with laughter.

“You need to watch out for the broody ones. They’re like mini attack-dinosaurs!” Yang was still chuckling as she reached underneath the evil hen. She didn’t bat an eye when the hen started pecking at her. “It doesn't hurt that bad. Definitely not like a goose peck. Those bitches are _mean_.”

The sunny day meant none of the goats were at the stall gate to greet them. All of the animals were outside, enjoying the as much of the warm weather as they could. When winter came, they'd be much more reluctant to go out at all. The women took advantage of this to give their stalls a thorough cleaning. 

“Don't use your back,” Yang reminded her. 

“Because of the hump. Got it.” A guilty part of Blake wondered if Yang would give her a massage again, but she put the thought out of her mind. It would be wrong to expect that kind of generosity too regularly. 

“The good thing about goats,” Yang told her, hefting another massive scoop of goat poop and wood shavings, “is that their shit is so much more manageable than cow shit. I mean, look. Small, light… they might as well be cocoa puffs.”

“Thank you for ruining cocoa puffs for me,” Blake remarked after dumping a load of the not-breakfast-cereal into the wheelbarrow. “I didn't like them anyway, but you just cemented that disgust for me.”

“Aw, I'm so proud!”

When they were mucking out the steers’ shelter a short while later, Blake realized what Yang had meant when she said goat shit was manageable. This stuff was heavy, wet, and stunk to the high heavens. Not wanting to seem weak in front of Yang, Blake grit her teeth and did the work. Yang, on the other hand, was freer with her grumbling.

“Cow shit is the worst, I swear. It’s days like this I’m thankful Dad got goats instead of dairy cows. And usually, I don’t let it get this bad. This week has just been… unusual? So I didn't quite get around to it.”

Pink roses blossomed in Blake’s cheeks, but she said nothing. Yang noticed it anyway, and she smiled.

Blake insisted on taking the wheelbarrow this time, which was much heavier than she expected. She grunted as she heaved it away. At a quick glance behind, she saw Yang watching her. She felt her eyes on her all the way out the door.

It was slow-going to the manure pile, but she didn’t want to give in. She hoped that Yang wouldn’t tease her about her speed. It would build up her muscles, at the very least, she kept telling herself. By the time she made it, she needed a moment to catch her breath. She'd thought she'd been in shape, but apparently, this sort of work used the parts of her body that were not. She heaved a sigh and wiped her forehead on her arm before tipping the wheelbarrow onto the pile.

It was a mess. Her new boots were soon christened with manure as Blake stepped onto the pile to shovel out the dregs. Now that she thought about it, she wondered about the mudroom she cleaned. Who was to say if the dried brown stuff there was even mud at all?

“You got it?”

Blake looked over at her shoulder at Yang, who strolled lazily up to the manure pile. She looked so relaxed, watching Blake work with obvious enjoyment.

“Just about!” Blake set the wheelbarrow to rights. “This stuff is heavier than I thought.”

“In the future, if you want to carry smaller loads, feel free. Building up to this much might be easier than doing it outright.”

“Now you tell me.”

Yang wore a small smirk. She was very close to Blake now; facing each other, their faces were only inches apart.

“You've got a bit of hay…” Yang reached for the side of Blake's head, gently dislodging a piece of hay that must have been stuck there.

As she did this, Blake held her breath. Yang's face was so close. A moment of insanity had her envisioning Yang's lips on her own, wondering for that brief instant how they would feel, how she would taste. Was she crazy? She had never thought about what it would be like to kiss another woman. Then again, being with Adam had deadened any idea of pleasure within her for anyone. So, sure. She had never imagined kissing another woman. 

But no other woman was Yang.

Yang's lilac eyes were searching Blake's own amber ones. For what? For a terrifying moment, Blake was sure-- _so sure_ \-- that Yang was looking into her soul, reading her thoughts. 

And then she smiled, holding up the piece of hay between them. “If you're not careful,” Yang warned in a low voice, “the goats will eat your hair.”

The morning was gone by the time they finished mucking out the animal shelters. Blake hoped that Yang couldn't see how jittery she was. For much of the day, she couldn't bring herself to look her in the eyes, fearing that whatever had come over her that morning would return. That was the reason she also tried to avoid further physical contact with Yang. She longed for even a light touch, but whatever emotions that came with it would be unpredictable. It was safer to resist.

They spent the afternoon in one of the warm greenhouses. Blake had never really spent much time in a greenhouse before, so she was surprised by how muggy the air was. Jackets left by the door, the two wandered up and down the rows of greens. How could there be so many different kinds of lettuce?

“Oh, Blake! Check this out!” Yang bent down, pulling something out of the soil. It was a little yellow flower. Short, stunted, but a flower all the same. “It's a stubborn little weed!” she laughed.

“Sort of like yourself?” Blake couldn't resist the jab, and was rewarded for it by a poke to the side.

“You're a cruel one, Belladonna,” Yang teased. She pulled at the stem, removing the thin dirt-covered roots. “Hold still for a sec.”

For the second time that day, Yang's fingers were in Blake's dark hair. She watched, wide-eyed, as Yang settled the stem around one of her human ears. She couldn't avert her eyes from Yang's face now. Her expression was so gentle in its concentration, so beautiful.

When Yang's eyes flicked back to Blake's, there was a gleam she hadn't noticed before. What could that mean? Whatever it was made Blake look down, face glowing with embarrassment. She felt Yang's hand at her waist and she _knew_ her whole body was buzzing.

“All set,” Yang finally said, her voice more quiet than Blake had expected. 

She was at a loss for words. Yang stepped back to give her an appraising look. Blake looked up just enough to see the smile that quirked Yang’s lips. 

“It looks good on you. A little touch of yellow works, y’know?” Her hand lingered a moment longer, then drew back.

Blake wasn’t sure how she survived the rest of the afternoon. How was she supposed to think about arugula when her mind was running nonstop about the woman beside her? Though the flower had fallen out of her hair and gotten lost not long after Yang put it there, it was the gesture that she couldn’t get out of her mind. Yang seemed to notice the lapse in focus, for she’d occasionally poke Blake in the arm.

“Are you still tired?” she asked, to which Blake would stammer her denial. Tiredness certainly wasn’t the problem, she knew. Not that she could tell that to Yang.

Both of them were ready for the shower by the end of the day. Blake was glad that there were two showers, with Yang using the one in her father’s bedroom. The showers had to be somewhat short, as the hot water wouldn’t last long, but Blake was relieved to get the stench of manure off of her at last. She was somewhat surprised to notice that she’d have to trim her nails soon. Nail-biting had been a nervous habit during the years she was with Adam, but now that she was thinking about it, she couldn’t remember the last time she consciously bit them. She hadn’t realized that Adam wasn’t the only bad habit she’d left behind.

When she came out, Yang was already heating up leftover soup. There was also the delicious, toasty smell of bread warming in the oven. Hearing Blake’s footsteps, she looked over her shoulder, her damp hair flipping over her shoulder with the quick motion.

“Hey, babe. Dinner’ll be ready soon.”

“No rush.” Blake sat at the kitchen table while Yang turned back to the pot. As she sat back, she saw a newspaper open where Yang usually sat. It was only now that she remembered Yang’s strange behavior yesterday when Taiyang gave the paper to her. Page seven… “What’s in the newspaper?”

Yang stopped what she was doing. Without looking at Blake, she set the ladle down. “Everyone’s got their demons,” she said softly. “Go ahead. It’s already on the right page.”

With a frown, Blake pulled the paper to her. Yang approached, gazing at Blake with an unreadable expression. At first, she didn’t see it. There was a list of outstanding warrants, of a car accident, a conviction--

Oh. Oh _no_.

The expression on her face must have changed, for Yang spoke. “I got involved with _her_. Because I decided to hunt her down, my life imploded like a fucking supernova.”

The woman in the photo was Yang. At least, it could have been her, had her hair not been black and her eyes not crimson. Blake stared in disbelief. The headline read, _BRANWEN FOUND GUILTY_.

“Who is this?” Blake asked, incredulous.

“I told you Summer Rose was my mother.” Yang’s voice was low, tired. “And she was. In every way except biologically.”

“So… this woman…”

“Raven. Her name is Raven Branwen. She’s the woman who gave birth to me.”

Blake stared at the photo again. She could see it. It was difficult to process this; Yang idolized Summer, and every conversation about her was spoken with such love. But this…

“She left Dad before I was even a week old.” Yang’s voice was steely, practiced in blocking out any emotion that might be associated with this subject. “I didn’t find out until after Mom died. I was just a kid. For years, I like… fantasized about finding her and having her take me back. It was stupid, but as I said, I was a kid. I didn’t know _anything_ about her, other than that she’s Uncle Qrow’s twin. I didn't even know what she looked like.”

Yang shook her head and turned the heat off. Silence fell as she pulled the warmed bread out of the oven. Blake didn’t push her. The newspaper seemed to be the ending of the story, so this wouldn’t be a happy tale. Considering all the patience Yang had given her, Blake was more than happy to return it.

“I didn’t have any luck tracking her down until college. I tried to in Signal, but the curfews and rules made it hard, but college gave me enough freedom to do what I wanted. I had plenty of years of martial arts training under my belt, so I was able to figure out how to beat the information out of a couple low-level thugs.” A strange, sad smile fell across Yang’s face as she set the bread on the table. “For studying pre-law, I was pretty shady myself. Maybe I got something from Raven after all.”

More silence passed as she brought over a couple bowls of soup. She set one in front of Blake, pushing away the offensive newspaper. She sat across from her with her own bowl, though she didn’t touch it. She stirred the soup around, but never put the spoon to her mouth. 

“When I managed to get in to see her-- she’s kind of like a mob boss? I think? She had a fucking office and everything. But when I finally saw her… she seemed almost smug that I’d tracked her down. She wasn’t excited to see her daughter. She was excited to see someone who might be a criminal like her, someone who shared her blood and could take after her. I think she wanted me to… to be her legacy, I guess. Not that I saw that at the time. I might as well have still been eight years old, desperate to find a mommy.” She splashed her spoon around in the bowl, her voice turning harsh. “So of course I wanted her to like me. There was only one way to do that, I guess, and that was to get sucked into her own sketchy business.”

“Oh, shit,” Blake said softly. A cloud had settled around Yang’s face. She wasn’t even looking at Blake anymore, just staring into her soup.

“Yeah. It started out light. Moving stolen goods, passing off counterfeit cash. Easy stuff. I saw it as a job. It was easy to forget stuff like that is a crime. But then she asked me to help with a robbery.” Her eyes narrowed, but Blake could see the flash of red. “It went okay at first. And then I saw a cop. A woman. And I saw her in that uniform, and I thought of Summer. And I freaked out. Because _Summer_ was my mom. Not Raven.

“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I tried to escape, but I got arrested. I couldn’t tell Dad, so I begged my friends to bail me out. Dad found out anyway, of course. God, I can’t make myself think of how he was that day.” The knuckles on Yang’s hand were white where she gripped the spoon. “I got lucky in court. I had no priors, and when I told them what I knew about Raven, they dropped the charges. As her daughter, she’d told me things she would never have told _any_ new member of her gang. That was how she fucked up.”

Blake had forgotten about her own soup. Yang’s face had gone so dark that Blake was afraid for her. The usual glint in her eye was gone. Her eyes looked dead.

“I couldn’t get my act together after that. I still had a couple months left of school, but I flunked them all. I got caught up in the party scene. Drank too much, even did some drugs. I was being harassed the whole time, too, by some of the members of the gang. Raven didn’t know yet that I’d betrayed her, but they wanted me to answer for my behavior at that robbery. I got into a lot of fights.” She slowly shook her head. “I was a mess. Not only was Raven absolutely done with me, but there was no one left I could really trust. So I self-destructed.”

Blake nearly stood up when Yang put a hand to her forehead. She wasn’t crying, she quickly saw, but bringing this up was taking a lot out of her.

“I did so many awful things,” she murmured. “So many horrible, disgusting things. I just didn’t want to be myself anymore.”

“Yang,” Blake said, her voice almost a whimper.

“So I moved home. I dropped out and came back home. Farming is something I can do. It’s simple. So I moved home and basically became a hermit.”

At last, Yang looked back up. The red in her eyes was gone, but the expression on her face wasn’t a reassuring one.

“As I said… everyone has their own demons. Since you’ve trusted me with yours, I’ve trusted you with mine.”

“Yang…”

“It’s in the past now. It’s all right, really. Don’t look at me like that.” Yang’s smile was lopsided, forced.

Blake was standing up, moving toward Yang. Her arms were around her, suddenly needing to give her that closeness and comfort that she herself had found sanctuary in the night before. Yang’s own arms curled up around Blake’s, and her head pressed into her stomach. Blake could feel the slight dampness of her hair and knew that it would leave a wet spot on her tank top. Still, she put a hand into Yang’s hair and pulled her head closer into her body.

She hadn’t dared till now to touch Yang’s hair. She knew the farmer was serious about her haircare, so apart from accidental brushes with it, she had avoided touching it. But now that it was in her hand, it was so soft. If it was like this while still damp, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like dry. She massaged her fingers into Yang’s scalp. There was a gentle exhale against her stomach, and knew Yang appreciated this touch.

“Let’s go sit on the couch for a minute. I’m not really hungry now,” Yang mumbled.

They didn’t bother clearing the dishes; Blake had a feeling they might be back to eat later. For now, though, she wanted nothing more than to comfort Yang. She gripped her hand tightly as they went to the living room, sitting close to each other on the couch. Yang wrapped an arm around her, pulling Blake almost onto her lap. 

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” Blake told her. The fear from earlier in the day about meeting Yang’s eyes was forgotten. Meeting her eyes now seemed more important than anything else.

“You don’t need to say that,” she replied. Yang reached out, fingertips brushing Blake’s neck, trailing down her collarbone. Blake shivered. “Your bruises are fading,” she commented.

“I know.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing what your neck looks like without it,” she added. “I still don’t understand how someone could do that to something-- some _one_ \-- so beautiful.”

Her face was red and she knew it. She did have to break eye contact then. And what could she say to that? How are you supposed to respond if someone says that you’re beautiful?

Yang suddenly grabbed her chin in her fingers, lifting it up so that Blake had no choice but to look into those eyes. Again, they were searching her own. 

“I know what I called you. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t think it was true.”

“But--”

“No. You’re beautiful. And if I need to say it a hundred times, I will.”

Blake’s eyes were wide and frantic, but Yang looked as cool and collected as ever. Blake could see the entire universe and all the stars and all the lilac galaxies reflected in those eyes. They consumed her, and she could sense even before it happened that Yang was going to kiss her.

A hand under her chin and a hand at the back of her head, Blake returned Yang’s kiss with eagerness, with desperation. Yang was ever the rock, calm and confident, her mouth firm, but gentle. It was softer than she’d imagined. Every kiss she’d ever had before now had been rushed, hurried, as if she needed to keep up or risk falling. This was different.

God, this was different.

Yang broke the kiss off, but did not pull away. Blake was trembling, but Yang repositioned her arms to hold her close. The circle of Yang’s arms was safe, safe, safe, and she moved in closer with gratitude for that connection. Somehow, she was pulled onto Yang’s lap, and she curled into the other woman’s body.

“Is this okay?” Yang asked, her voice quiet. 

“Yes.” Blake’s voice was little more than a squeak. 

Yang’s mouth brushed her lips lightly, then rested her forehead against Blake’s. She felt Yang’s hand slink around her waist. “I didn’t mean to do this right after telling you my story,” Yang said with a shaky laugh. “I would have tried to be more romantic or something.”

“It’s okay,” Blake replied. She blushed, then went on. “I, actually… I couldn’t stop thinking something like this all day.”

She was so relieved to see a twinkle had returned to Yang’s eyes. “I had a feeling.”

It seemed to Blake like her face had been a solid shade of red more often than her normal skin tone today. She looked away, but Yang chuckled and pulled her chin back to face her.

“Don’t. Please. It was adorable. I could tell you were trying to not look at me _all day long_. And you’ve been blushing so much!”

Blake groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean--”

“Listen, it’s nothing to apologize for. I was happy for it, actually,” Yang told her. “It meant that I wasn’t being crazy.”

“Crazy? Why would you be crazy?”

“Because I love the way you feel in my arms. I love holding you. I just want… to be the person in your life, y’know? But I didn’t want to say or do anything if you didn’t want it. You’ve had too much of that already.”

Blake almost couldn’t grasp the meaning to Yang’s words. Having someone-- _any_ one, really-- consider her own feelings was such a foreign concept. Yang had done it before, of course, but now, Blake realized, she would continue to do it in the future. Whereas Adam had taken what he wanted from her like a party platter, Yang was treating her like an actual human. She nestled into her, as though the closeness would merge their souls. 

“I do want it,” she whispered. Yang nuzzled her neck, gently enough so as not to awaken any lingering ache the bruise left. The nuzzle turned into a soft kiss. Blake’s whole body sagged in relaxation and relief.

“I know, baby,” Yang murmured in reply.

The soup was cold by the time they returned to the dinner table, but Blake didn’t even care. Microwaved soup was fine when there was so much peace in your heart.

She looked forward to going back to bed, to snuggle with Yang and not be ashamed to enjoy it. How long had it been now since she had looked forward to going to bed? Even if there were nightmares, she remembered how she had awoken the night before. Yang had been there to soothe her. Yang had been there.

“How’re you feeling?” Yang asked as she climbed into bed. Blake smiled.

“A lot better than I was.”

Yang opened her arms. Blake slid into them gratefully, savoring the sensation of Yang’s hands rubbing her back, her sides, her arms. The calloused fingers slid over the burn scars tenderly. It was strange to consider a relationship that didn’t involve fear. She had thought that was something you only found in books. 

“How are _you_ feeling?” Blake asked. “You told me some pretty heavy stuff.”

“I’m feeling _very_ good now,” Yang assured her. “What happened to me is only my past. I’m not going to let it affect my future. Especially not with you.”

“I didn’t think it would.” Blake turned her face up to Yang’s. “But I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me about it.”

She arched her back as Yang ran a hand up and down it. With Adam, even little touches made her nervous. Being able to give into the joy of touch was luxurious.

“Kiss me,” she pleaded, looking up at Yang. The responding smile was a sunny one.

Their lips met.

No words were needed.


	5. Chapter 5

This was such a pleasant change from the usual nightmares. The dream she just had was such a good one that Blake didn’t want to wake up at all.

It took a few minutes to remember that there _had_ been a nightmare.

The details were fuzzy now. Adam was in it, but that was the only thing she was certain of. Did that mean she’d had a nightmare within a dream? Because that nightmare had been engulfed by dream on both sides. 

Yang…

She remembered now. Yang’s arm sliding under her tank top, laying it on her spine. It was still there now, relaxed, the skin-to-skin contact feeling more intimate than any kind of touch she’d ever felt in her life. Yang had been ready to catch her when the nightmare came. Blake remembered that she had asked first, if it was okay to lay a hand across her back in this way. She had used it to pull Blake into the soft crescent of her body, to rub her shoulders in easy circles. There were other words, but the words themselves were gone. It was only the meaning that remained.

Blake lay her head against Yang’s chest, feeling the gentle back and forth of her breathing. So it wasn’t a dream after all. They had kissed the night before. Several times, even. Yang had been so gentle with them, something Blake was not used to. At one point, Yang had to stop her, to remind her to relax. This wasn’t about force, or about power, or about speed. This wasn’t about an end-goal.

This was about love, damn it.

Yang had used a few choice words to describe Adam at that point. “It’s like he trained you to get right to the punch,” she had muttered. “God. Baby, we have so much work to do.”

So Blake had enjoyed this new, slow pace. Yang was right. Kissing had only been a means to an end before. Now, she was able to savor the weight of her lips and how soft they were, the heat of Yang’s minty breath, the warmth of her body…

She felt a peck on the top of her head.

“Comfortable?” Yang asked. Her voice was low, husky with sleep. “I’ve pretty much got built-in pillows, so if you say you’re not comfortable, I don’t know how I’ll ever make you happy.”

Blake chuckled. “I’m _very_ comfortable.” She paused. “And you make me _very_ happy.”

A shiver ran up her spine as Yang’s fingers danced across her back for a few seconds. She stopped, then began to rub the goosebumps away. “It means I’m doing something right, then,” she replied, sounding amused. “Did you sleep okay?”

“The nightmare wasn’t as memorable as they usually are. So I slept really well.” Blake looked up at Yang. “I think you might’ve had something to do with that.”

“Oh?” Yang grinned. “Does that mean I’m hired?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

Yang shifted slightly, giving herself a better angle with which to kiss Blake. She reciprocated eagerly, shivering again as Yang’s hand slaked down her back and onto the skin of her waist. It amazed her that such a simple touch could convey so much protection and care.

“We’ll have to get up,” Yang sighed after a short time. “It’s spa day for the goats.”

“I’m sorry… what?”

“Are you jealous?” Yang’s eyes twinkled. “We’re just trimming their hooves, shaving their udders, and giving them a shot before they kid.” Her expression became very serious. “Do you need me to shave your udder, too?”

Blake was almost embarrassed by her spastic giggle. Fortunately, Yang made one of her own. That caught Blake off-guard. She didn’t think giggling was one of the noises Yang had in her, but that just went to show that she still had a lot to learn about this wild woman.

The day was a long one. Yang decided to space out the goats’ “spa day” over the course of a couple days. After the first goat, Blake was able to see why. The first goat (“Fucking Rhonda”, Yang called her) was apparently one of the most bad-natured goats. She fought Yang through every minute of hoof trimming.

“You’d think she’d be used to this by now,” Yang grunted, capturing a hind leg between her arm and side, “but no! Every single time, she acts like it’s the end of the world!”

Blake held her hind legs down as Yang shaved Rhonda’s udder. This, Yang explained, would make for less of a mess come kidding time. There would be a lot of blood and discharge, both of which would stick to a hairy udder. Blake was so focused on watching Yang work that Rhonda took advantage of the lapse to wrestle a leg from Blake. The foot narrowly missed her eye when the goat thrashed, instead nailing her on the eyebrow.

“Fucking Rhonda. I swear to God, if she didn’t produce so much milk, she’d be out of here,” Yang grumbled. She ran a thumb over Blake’s eyebrow, inspecting for damage. “You’ll be okay. I hope it doesn’t bruise. At least it wasn’t a human this time that did it?”

Despite acting like it was no big deal, she could tell Yang was unhappy about what had happened. Blake took her hand. “It’s no big deal. It’s a farm. Stuff like this happens, right? This was my bad.”

“I was so looking forward to seeing you without any bruises,” Yang replied, her voice soft. Blake squeezed her hand.

“Accidental bruises aren’t going to traumatize me. Promise.”

The rest of the goats that morning weren’t nearly as bad as Rhonda, though there were a few restless ones. Pam was downright docile, and Yang even let Blake take a turn trimming the hooves, instructing her on how they should look. On a relaxed goat, this only took a few minutes, even for a novice like Blake. She was slightly disconcerted by the gurgling of the goat’s stomach, but Yang assured her that it was normal.

“Goats are just gassy. I guess when you have four stomachs, you’re bound to have at least one of them making noise at all times,” she said with a laugh.

They were sweaty and covered with goat fur by the time they’d finished with the day’s goats. They’d both stripped to their tank tops, which meant that the fur stuck to their damp skin easily. It itched, Blake learned as she tried wiping it off.

“I didn’t realize goats were so hairy,” she remarked. Yang, too, was trying to wipe away the fur. She’d borne the brunt of the hairy assault, and Blake laughed at the layer of hair on her arms and chest. “You look like Bigfoot.” She paused. “Well, a sexy Bigfoot.”

An impish smile stretched across Yang’s hair-covered face. “Sexy Bigfoot. I could live with that. My feet are a lot bigger than yours.”

The gazed at each other for a silent moment, amused. Thoughtful. 

And then Blake was pressed against the barn wall, her lips locked with Yang’s, hips pinned under hers. She felt Yang’s breasts as they heaved against her, breathless but frenzied. Blake was drowning, but this was a _good_ drowning. It was like drowning in light, drowning in joy, drowning in…

Yang’s mouth had opened just a little. It took all of Blake’s restraint not to plunge in right away. This wasn’t a race, Yang had told her last night. Blake was determined to enjoy every second of this. She wanted to remember each second as it happened, to brand it into her memory for the rest of her life. Even if she never had a happy day again, she would have this. Not even Adam could pry it away from her.

Yang’s tongue probed her mouth with surprising gentleness for someone whose body seemed so desperate. It moved with tantalizing slowness. She gripped Blake’s side beneath her shirt, her hands slick over the sweat. Blake herself was aware that her own chest was rising and falling in time with Yang’s. She clutched Yang’s tank, awash in the sensations. This was how love _should_ be. 

The movement of their tongues were less a battle and more of a dance. Yang took the lead, Blake following as though she’d never had anyone make out with her before. And she hadn’t, really. Not in the way it should have been. Not like this. Yang’s tongue was so smooth, so warm, rolling lazily, tasting Blake’s mouth with exaggerated patience that was almost too much to handle.

Too soon, Yang withdrew her tongue. Blake tried pulling her closer even as she drew back. She could feel Yang’s smile rather than see it. 

“If we don’t stop now, I don’t think I ever could,” Yang explained. “God, I want nothing more right now than to keep kissing you.”

“Then keep going,” Blake urged. Yang shook her head, a rueful expression on her face.

“You’ve been in just the one relationship before, right?” Blake nodded. “The way it seems to me, he didn’t do very well on the romance part.”

Blake half-smiled and ran her tongue over her swollen lips. “It wasn’t romance. It was… just an expectation I needed to meet. Even when I thought I had a crush on him, everything went so fast.”

“That’s what I was wondering. No focus on like… sensuality.”

 _Sensuality_. Definitely not a word she would have ever used to describe her relationship with Adam. “It was like he was dragging me along. Even when we… had sex, I was so nervous about it. He _convinced_ me that it was something I wanted, even tried to shame me about it when I wanted to think it over.” She shook her head. “God, he really messed with my head.”

“So what I’m doing is _un_ messing it,” Yang told her firmly. “We’ll give this the time it deserves. No rush, no expectations. I want you to know what this is _supposed_ to be like. I care about you too much to let you cheat yourself, baby.” She reached up and wiped at Blake’s cheek. It took her a few short swipes before she came away with a line of fur. “Sorry, I guess I gave you a goat beard.”

Over the week, the farm work was much more enjoyable knowing that it meant that she and Yang would end up making out in a corner between chores. Touch, too-- that sweet, luxurious sense-- happened at every turn. Yang had a way of touching Blake, whether on the arm, the back, the leg, that picked Blake up whenever she was lagging behind.

In the pumpkin patch, Yang turned on Blake. “Babe, are you afraid to touch me?”

“I touch you,” she replied, perplexed. “I touch you all the time.”

“You hold my hand. You touch my shoulders sometimes. But not--” Yang wrapped an arm around Blake’s waist, pulling her closer, “--like _this_.” Her voice was lower on the last two words. 

That couldn’t be right. “Don’t we always--?”

Yang was already shaking her head as she released Blake. “You’re fine when I initiate it. But you never do that on your own.”

Blake considered it. There was the one time, after Yang had told her about her past, but other than that… Uncomfortably, she realized that Yang was right. “I’m sorry,” was all she could say.

“No, it’s nothing to apologize for. Seriously, don’t even think about apologizing.” Yang shook her head in disbelief.

“I think I’m just so used to not touching people that it’s hard to start,” she replied, her voice slow as she tried to think about it. She hesitated, then added, “Adam didn’t like it when I touched anyone, even my friends. And I really didn’t touch him unless I could tell he wanted me to, and even then…”

Yang spread her arms and faced Blake. “Touch me. Right now. Right here.”

Her cheeks tinged with pink, but Yang wasn’t laughing. She regarded Blake with a patient look. She didn’t move.

Slowly, she got closer to Yang. The panicky part of her brain kept trying to yell at her, that this was a trap-- but she knew it wasn’t. Still, it felt weird, to put a hand on Yang’s waist. Then the other hand. To her relief, Yang set her arms down, mimicking Blake’s motion. Encouraged, she slid a hand up Yang’s back. She was rewarded with a small smile. A bit nervously, she rubbed her hand in a wide circle. The other, she moved up and down Yang’s side, which made the farmer’s back arch.

Blake dragged her hand across Yang’s toned stomach. She thought it over for a minute, then pushed her hand up over Yang’s core, between her breasts, and across her collarbone. She stopped here to look up at Yang with wide eyes. Yang said nothing, but her eyes looked amused. Timidly, Blake leaned in, planting a delicate kiss on her lips.

To her relief, Yang returned it. It hit Blake that what Yang had given her was _control_. What a strange thing it was.

And what a good taste it had.

It was still Blake who ended up on her back in the pumpkin patch, with Yang above, but Blake had engineered it that way. The thrill was intoxicating.

The ride to Vale that Saturday was a happier, more rested one than the trip the week before. Had it really only been a week? Yang hadn’t been sure if Ruby, or even Taiyang, would show up this week, but they had packed plenty of cider just in case. 

“Do you drive?” Yang asked as they sailed across the country roads.

“I do, but I don’t have a license. White Fang members are worried they’ll be tracked down.”

“That blows. Maybe we can get one for you. Then you could help me with these drives.”

Blake grimaced. “I bet Adam could figure out how to get my information that way,” she replied darkly.

“He can’t hunt you down forever. Once things calm down, I bet he’ll give up,” Yang told her. Blake loved that confidence, but she knew Adam. He wouldn’t give up, not until he’d found her or killed her. Or both. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling of her heart.

The morning went by quickly. To her surprise, some of the customers from last week had remembered Blake. Their friendliness was still a strange thing to get used to, but it was nice. Yang had even mentioned that it looked like more Faunus were coming to their table than usual. “Human and Faunus, working together,” Yang told her during a quiet spell as they sat together. “People are all over that shit. If I’d known you’d be so good for business, I would’ve hired you a long time ago!”

“Isn’t that sort of… racist?”

Yang clutched her chest. “Belladonna, I am _shocked_.”

Blake couldn’t help but laugh at the theatrics. “Well, it is.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way. Are you really offended?”

Blake smiled. “Not really.” 

Yang visibly relaxed. “Good. Because if I was racist, I wouldn’t have a Faunus girlfriend. And if I was racist, I definitely wouldn’t do something like this in public.”

Before Blake could ask, Yang’s mouth was on hers. It was a soft kiss, chaste, but it lingered long enough for a few folks to look over at them. Not that Blake could see. She was lost in Yang once more. She heard a distant _click_ to her acute senses. Confused, she opened her eyes.

“ _OH_.”

This voice caught Yang’s attention. She broke the kiss quickly, and both women stared at Ruby and Taiyang. The two stared right back. Taiyang looked bemused, while Ruby’s wide silver eyes went back and forth from Blake and Yang.

“Do you _have_ to do that right here?” Taiyang asked. “You know you’re on the job, right?”

“I’m making a point!” Yang replied hotly, her ruddy cheeks betraying a hint of embarrassment.

“To the entire farmer’s market? Really?”

Blake buried her face in her hands, overcome by sheer humiliation. Yang put a comforting hand on her thigh.

“So, uh… are you like… girlfriend and girlfriend?” Ruby’s question dispelled the tension with her playful eagerness.

“As a matter of fact? Yes. Yes we are.” Yang’s voice seemed so smug, so proud, that Blake finally looked up. She was unnerved to see Taiyang looking at her, his gaze intent and focused. 

“Y’know,” he said, “I’ve been racking my brain all week, trying to remember you. I spent a lot of time up in her dorm after… y’know. _That_ happened. I know there was a Faunus with rabbit ears on Yang’s dorm, but I don’t remember one with cat ears.”

Was the shade of her face giving her away? Yang intervened. “Can you just let it go, Dad?”

“I just want to know the truth, Yang. And if you’re not giving it to me--”

“We can tell you another time. In private. Is that so much to ask?” Yang snapped. Her eyes had shifted into their red color. Taiyang raised his eyebrows. “Blake has nothing to do with… _that_.”

“You know I worry about you,” he told her. Yang gave a grudging nod.

“I’m not messing with that anymore. I’ve got new things in my life to think about.” At her words, Blake slipped a hand over to squeeze Yang’s thigh, returning the gesture Yang had given to her earlier. 

“So when did you start dating?” Ruby seemed ready to explode with excitement, and it was clear that Taiyang’s questioning of Yang had frustrated the girl. She wanted the juicy details.

“Last week,” Blake told them, her voice quiet but her smile loud. 

“I’m so happy that you guys are dating!” Ruby squealed. “That’s so cute! What was your first date? Did you go to Ren’s Diner?”

“We’ve been busy at the farm,” Yang told her, surprising Blake with a shaky laugh. Ruby immediately smirked, misinterpreting what Yang said. “Oh, you little shit, that’s not what I mean!”

As the sisters argued, Blake pulled a couple jugs of cider from the cooler. “Here,” she said, handing them to Taiyang. Yang was on the other side of the table already, her sister in a headlock.

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Thanks. Farm life working out for you?”

“I’m not sure what I expected, but I like it.”

“Good. To be honest, I wouldn't have pegged you for a farmer last week. No offense. But you look… better this week. I think farming suits you.” His blue eyes flicked over to the girls. “Or something does, at least.”

She blushed. “Thanks, I think?”

“And how are the goats?”

She told him how the various pregnant does were doing, about the sizes of the biggest ones, the behaviors of the personable ones. When she brought up the adventures with goat “spa days”, Taiyang was laughing. 

“Classic Rhonda. She’s always been like that. But she always throws at least triplets, and she always gives the most milk. She’s fine on the milking machine, but she just doesn’t like having her hooves messed with.”

She liked the way he talked about the goats. He knew them as well as his own children, and seemed to love them just as much. She wondered how hard it was for him to live so far away from them. Farming had been his life. It would be again, of course, but it must be strange to do something for so long and then suddenly not have it. In her own case, it had been liberating. But what was it for Taiyang?

“She’s a good mother, too,” he added. A twinkle, so like Yang’s shone in his eyes. “And I’m not _kidding_.”

Oh. Okay.

Ruby wanted to hang out the rest of the day with her sister and “practically my new sister-in-law!”, but Taiyang was as firm with her about leaving as he’d been the week before. Ruby seemed to have a pattern of putting off homework assignments till the last minute. 

“I’ll see you ladies next week!” he called, pulling Ruby away by her collar. Blake looked at Yang, eyebrow raised.

“I didn’t expect him to catch on that fast.” Yang heaved a long sigh.

“Well, you did completely give it away,” Blake pointed out. “Figures you’d kiss me at the exact moment he was looking.”

“I meant that we weren’t college buddies. But yeah, that too.”

“Oh.” Blake bit her lip.

“He hates it when I keep secrets. After what happened in college, I can’t say I blame him. But… your story is _your_ story. I don’t want to tell him anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“Oh,” Blake said again. She was quiet for a long moment before saying, “The bare bones is probably okay. He doesn’t need the specifics. Would the basics be good enough for him?”

Yang nodded. “I think so. I think he approves of you. At least, he wants to.” She wrapped her arms around Blake, pulling her into an embrace. “But you know who approves of you most of all?”

Blake smiled, resting her head on Yang’s shoulder. “You.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

\--

 _Ding_.

Both women stirred. Blake glanced at the clock. It was way too late at night for anyone to be pulling up to the farmstand. It would have been too early for her nightmares to wake her up, too, had the nightmares not ceased completely a couple days before. They’d gone to bed early, tired after their long drive back from Vale. Something was wrong.

Yang was already pulling a sweatshirt on. “You stay here,” she told Blake.

“What’s going on?”

“My phone only dings if a car drives over the wire in the driveway. It’s one in the morning.” Yang looked a little pale and she sounded tired, but she moved swiftly 

“What does that mean?”

“That someone’s on our property.” 

Despite Yang’s directions to stay, she got up to watch Yang go into her father’s room. She was in there for only a few minutes, but when she came back, her stomach dropped. She was carrying a long gun.

“You need to stay in here. Don’t come out, even if I start shooting. Got it?”

“But--”

“Promise me.”

Blake looked from the gun back to Yang. “I promise,” she replied, defeated. Yang pressed a kiss to her forehead, then took off out the front door. 

She darted back to Yang’s room. The room was dark, but the window faced the farmstand. If she played it safe, she could at least hear what was going on. Maybe she could even see the intruder. She opened the window a crack, blessing her extraordinary hearing. Her heart thudded against her chest. Then she heard Yang.

“Are you lost, little lady?”

Blake could _feel_ the color draining from her face. She had an idea who this might be.

“Because the only reason I’ll accept for you being on my property at this time of night is that your car broke down or something,” Yang added. Her back was to the window, so she couldn’t see the expression on her face, but she could see who stepped into the floodlights. 

Ilia.

“How’d you know I was even here?” The Faunus couldn’t hide her surprise.

“I know everything that happens on my farm. Now you tell-- who the fuck was that? Call him off now.”

It took all of Blake’s strength to remain standing. She felt sick. A second figure emerged near the farmstand, hands over his head. She saw Ilia wince.

“We’re looking for a young woman,” she told Yang. “She’s very unwell and needs--”

“I told you last week. I haven’t seen her. Now get off my property.”

She heard Ilia trying to assume control. “We have photos. We know she’s here, or that you’re covering for her.”

Photos? She remembered the strange _click_ she had heard at the farmers’ market. She’d dismissed it as paranoia, but apparently, it wasn’t. Someone had taken a picture of her kissing Yang.

“Lady. Do you know what buckshot is?”

“Pardon?”

“Buckshot. I’ve been hunting deer since I was a kid. Unlike bullets, buckshot doesn’t need to be exactly on target. That’s why I like it. So many little balls, you know _one_ of them, at least, is gonna hit. Of course, I’ve got great aim, so I’m not even worried about that. Now, if someone _were_ to get hit with it… it’ll hurt. A lot. If it doesn’t kill you, anyway. Based on where you’re standing…” She heard Ilia gasp as Yang raised the shotgun to point at her. “...yeah. You’d be fuckin’ smoked.”

“We’re just looking for information--” Ilia tried, trying to keep her voice light. 

Yang suddenly swung around, pointing the gun towards the house. Blake’s eyes widened. “As for you, kid, you’d probably live, but you wouldn’t be happy about it. Call him off, too, Ilia.”

Blake saw another shape run back toward Ilia’s black car even before Ilia spoke. He’d been so close to the house. _Too_ close.

“And now you can let that one in the barn know that you’re leaving.” Yang’s voice was almost cheerful. She swaggered closer to Ilia, the barrel of the gun back on her. “Now.”

How had Yang even seen that one? Ilia put her fingers to her lips and gave a sharp whistle. To her amazement, another figure slinked out of the barn. They seemed to have noticed the gun, for they gave Yang a wide berth. 

“Great. Party’s over. Listen to me, Ilia. If you want to come over sometime, have a little chat like a proper fuckin’ lady… you can come during business hours. But right now is absolutely not business hours. So get the fuck off my land.”

Ilia was shaken, and the rest of her team was spooked by the encounter. They didn’t even argue as they loaded into her car and sped away. Yang watched them leave, though Blake couldn’t see the look on her face. She was almost afraid to know what it looked like.

It was another ten minutes before Yang finally returned to the house. Blake was waiting for her in the mudroom, anxious. Yang’s irises were alive with red fury, though when she saw Blake, they resumed their lilac color. She pulled her sweatshirt off and locked the door.

“I heard everything,” she told Yang in a small voice. She nodded.

“I figured,” she replied. She was shuddering, and itwas so violent that Blake was afraid for her. “I’ve never pointed a loaded gun at a person before. Ever,” she told Blake in a hoarse voice. She set the gun down gingerly. “Not even an unloaded one. When you learn to shoot, it’s drilled into your head over and over that you always act like a gun is loaded, so you don’t shoot someone by accident. Friendly fire, they call it. And I knew that gun was loaded, safety off, and I still pointed it at someone. But you know what? I would have pulled that fucking trigger if she was going to try to take you away.”

Yang’s eyes were shining. Blake recognized brimming tears and wrapped her arms around her, one hand on her shoulder, clutching Yang to her. She could feel the tears leaking out of Yang’s now-quiet eyes onto her shoulder. Blake rocked her, murmuring words of comfort that Yang probably couldn’t understand.

Blake led her to the couch, pushing her down onto the cushions before sitting beside her. Yang’s eyes were streaming and she still shook, though Blake couldn’t tell if the shaking was from the suppressed sobs or from the adrenaline crash. So she held her, laying Yang’s head against her shoulder while her girlfriend shook. She stroked her hair, the blonde tangles smoothing again in her fingers. 

The shaking turned into a quiver, and then ceased altogether. Blake didn’t let go.

“I didn’t mean to fall apart like that,” Yang said, turning her head to look at Blake, her laugh only the shadow of what it usually was. “That was just so… insane.”

“Adam will stop at nothing,” Blake told her. It wasn’t just fear she was feeling now. There was _rage_. That he terrorized Blake was one thing. Pulling Yang into it was another.

“He can go ahead and try,” Yang spat. Her eyes were red again, and not just from crying. “I fucking _dare_ him.” She wrenched herself from Blake, grabbing her by the the shoulders and looking into her eyes. “Nobody fucks with the woman I love.”

Blake’s heart caught in her chest, but she didn’t have the chance to even dwell on those words before she was kissing Yang, and Yang was kissing her. There was fire on Yang’s lips, hot and sweet. Blake felt the sprinting of Yang’s heartbeat against her skin. She was beneath Yang, the long blonde hair tickling her bare shoulders. Up and down, up and down, went her chest, the rhythm complementing the movement of their tongues in their frantic dance.

She wasn’t consciously aware of her hand on Yang’s, guiding it into her cami. The sensation of those calloused fingers on her skin felt forbidden-- no. Not forbidden. This was her body, not Adam’s. She shivered with anticipation as Yang’s rough hands explored this uncharted part of her. Yang’s breathing was heavy, but she cupped Blake’s breast almost reverently. Her palm sought every line of her, caressing the smooth skin. Yang’s thumb stroked over her nipple with unimaginable tenderness. Blake uttered a small whimper.

But Yang ended her kiss. “Not tonight. We can’t tonight.”

“Why not?” Blake whispered. How long had she been trembling? Yang’s hesitation was obvious. She saw her gulp, and was relieved that she had not pulled her hand away. 

“It’ll be better than this,” she replied. “There’s a bunch of other emotions in our heads right now. No, when we go forward, baby, the only thing in my head will be my love for you.” Her regret was plain on her face as her thumb trailed a circle around her nipple before sliding out of Blake’s shirt. “Nothing will distract us. I’m going to do right by you.”

“You already have.” Blake replied softly, knowing she had fallen. She’d fallen hard.


	6. Chapter 6

The encounter left Yang too anxious to fall asleep for hours. She kept climbing out of bed because she claimed she'd “thought of something,” including putting a handgun in the nightstand and closing all the blinds in the house. Blake understood her actions, but it made her sad that Yang had been dragged into the hell that Blake knew so well. 

For herself, she couldn’t stop replaying those minutes over and over in her head. Ilia had been _here_. She _knew_. That would mean that Adam knew. The idea of Adam seeing a picture of her and Yang was the most terrifying thing she could imagine not just for her own sake, but for Yang's. She knew Adam would see red. He would hunt Yang down with as much intensity as he was hunting her. She wished she'd known that caring for another person would involve so much fear.

But even now, knowing what her relationship with Yang was… Blake wasn’t sure she’d take any of it back.

She and Yang had discussed Ilia’s possible motives for coming that night, including the company she kept. “They didn’t seem to be armed at all. Even if they were, it wasn’t in a way I could see,” Yang had told her. It was Blake who was sitting up this time, Yang’s head in her lap, long blonde hair spilling over her thighs.

“Reconnaissance?” Blake thought aloud.

“Or maybe they thought they could take you without a fight.” A troubled expression passed over Yang’s face. “I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I. It’s bad enough she came by herself. But with three other people?” Blake’s hand closed Yang’s hair into a light fist.

“One to the farmstand, one to the house, one to the barn,” Yang murmured. “Shit, what if she sent someone to the greenhouses?”

“No. She drives a coupe, I don’t think she could have fit anyone else in her car. By the way, how’d you know there was someone in the barn?” She still couldn’t get over how quickly Yang had caught onto that. To that, she had laughed.

“Didn’t you hear the goats freaking out? They wouldn’t do that unless someone was out there with them.”

Blake’s mouth had made a little “o” of surprise. She’d been so focused on listening to the conversation that she hadn’t even thought about the animals. The next morning, she vowed, she’d make sure each and every one of them got a treat.

She was relieved when Yang managed to drift off to sleep. The stress on her features melted away into peace. Blake remained awake, caressing the soft blonde locks. There would be no more sleep for her that night.

What would Adam’s next move be? He knew they were armed and that she had an ally. Even though Yang had proven herself capable of self-defense, Blake knew another encounter might be very different. Ilia was one thing, but Adam was a different animal altogether. Trying to predict his next move would be fruitless.

And how had he even found her? Had he known that she would be at the farmers’ market? Someone, at least, had recognized her there. Someone on Adam’s side had recognized her, taken her picture, and sent it to Ilia, or maybe to Adam himself. There were enemies everywhere, even in the friendliest places. She knew better than to expect safety anywhere. So why did this make her so sad?

As soon as there was light outside, Blake slipped out of bed. She wanted to let Yang sleep as long as she could. God only knew that she deserved a little extra sleep after the night before.

Frost glittered on the grass, and it crinkled beneath her feet. Blake wrapped her jacket tightly around her, pulling the collar around her mouth and nose, letting the heat from her exhales warm her up instead of spreading in a cloud before her. Winter wouldn’t be long in coming.

The animals were eager for their breakfast. The goats looked unperturbed, despite the recent excitement. A few of them stared up at her, chewing their cud as if it were any other normal Sunday. “Thanks for the help last night,” she told them, tossing a flake of hay into their feeder. A few of them waddled over to it, completely disregarding her. She had just finished shoving the second flake into the other feeder when she heard footsteps, coming at a run.

She spun around, muscles taut, but relaxed when she saw it was only Yang. Disheveled, still in her pajamas, Yang panted, bending over to catch her breath. Blake realized with alarm that she wasn’t wearing a jacket. “What’s wrong, babe?” she asked, the words tumbling off her tongue before she could catch the pet name. She turned slightly pink when she did. It was odd how natural it felt. She couldn’t dwell on her own feelings long; Yang was trembling. From cold?

“You scared the shit out of me.” Yang made a little nervous laugh. “I woke up, and you were gone, and… I guess I freaked out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I should be sorry.” Blake came out of the goat stall, where could touch Yang more easily, the contact comforting for the both of them. She wrapped her arms around her, relieved that Yang’s skin wasn't as cold as she had feared. “I should have told you where I was going, especially after last night.”

“I just got kind of worried that someone would snatch you or something…” Yang mumbled, her own arms going around Blake’s waist. “I know, it’s stupid.”

“Stop saying that,” Blake insisted. “I was just hoping you could sleep in for a bit. You okay now?”

“Yeah.” Yang’s breathing was easing up a bit, at least.

“So you just… ran out here in your pajamas? Without a sweatshirt?” Blake looked down. “In your flip-flops? Really?”

“I was worried! And you know the cold doesn’t bother me that much.”

“But this morning is frosty and you’re in a tank top. Take mine.”

Yang resisted, but finally compromised by offering to return her jacket after she’d grabbed her own. Blake tried to convince her that wasn’t necessary, but Yang had been so unsettled that she didn’t fight her too hard on it. Her heart ached after her as she watched Yang turn the corner in her jacket. In a way, Adam had victimized her, too. But knowing she cared enough to run into the cold after her… Blake didn’t know how to describe that warm feeling.

As she’d insisted, Yang returned in her own jacket. She held Blake’s out to her. “Can I help?”

“I’ve got it. You should go back to bed,” she replied sternly as she put her jacket back on. 

“After last night… I don’t think I can just go back to sleep, knowing you’re out here by yourself.” Yang _tried_ to give her words a lightness, and Blake saw right through it.

“You’re still in flip-flops. But if you want, you can stay out here with me while I finish getting everyone fed.” She paused, then added, “I don’t really like the idea of being away from you right now, either.”

They talked little as Blake hauled the flakes of hay out of the barn toward the areas where the bucks and steers lived. She could see the dark circles under Yang’s eyes and the curling of her toes against the cold, so she tried to move quickly. 

“I’m surprised the water hasn’t frozen,” she remarked as she filled up the bucks’ water. Yang gave a one-shouldered shrug, distracted.

“It’s an insulated hose. It’ll take a lot more than a bit of frost to make the hoses freeze.” Blake turned the water off and nodded.

“Makes sense.”

“Blake… I think I’m going to have to tell Dad about last night. If something were to happen… it is his farm.”

She couldn’t be surprised by Yang’s train of thought, nor could she blame her. She knew what the White Fang was capable of. She knew what Adam was capable of. The pit in her stomach only grew at the idea that Taiyang would know about her-- who she was, what she’d done… what had happened to her. She took a deep breath.

“I trust you.” Her words were calmer than she thought they’d be. “Tell him what you need to. Just… don’t tell him the specifics. Of what… _he_ did to me.”

“Of course not, baby.” Yang was somehow holding her again, and some of that dread Blake was feeling was expunged. “That’s between us.”

If it wasn’t so cold, they probably would have lingered like that. Yang’s core warmth felt divine on this kind of morning and Blake helped herself to it. Ultimately, it was remembering Yang’s cold toes that made Blake start tugging her toward the house. 

They hurried back into bed, with Yang slipping her feet up the legs of Blake’s pajama bottoms. She shivered. “Are those toes or ice cubes?” Blake asked with a laugh. “You should’ve changed into boots.”

“I didn’t think I’d need them,” she grumbled.

“Now you know how us little people feel, with _normal_ body temperatures.” They both laughed. Blake touched Yang’s forehead with her own. 

“I should call Dad before I fall asleep again,” Yang sighed. “Would you mind if I stay in here while I do that? I could use some moral support.”

“Of course,” Blake told her without hesitation. She found Yang’s hand under the covers and held it in both of her own. Yang looked so, so tired. 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” she demanded suddenly. Blake blinked, startled at the question and incredulous that they must have been thinking along the same lines at the same time. She seriously began to wonder if romance came with telepathy.

“Not really,” she admitted. “It’s like what happened with the nightmares. Only this was worse, because it was real.”

“Oh, baby,” Yang murmured. Her free arm tightened around her shoulders, pulling Blake closer to her. She released Yang’s hand so she could wrap her own arms around her waist. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall on her shoulder at the gentle pressure of Yang’s hand on her head. “Every nightmare you have, awake or asleep, I’ll be right here. Every minute. I swear.”

“I know. I know.” And she did. Nowhere could be safer than right where she was, right now, with Yang.

Just as she started to doze off, Yang whispered, “I do need to call Dad, though. Do you want me to step out?”

“Don’t leave.” Blake’s plea was groggy, and as Yang sat up, she held fast to her girlfriend’s waist. Yang’s hand on her back was reassuring while Blake settled her head on one of her thighs.

“Okay. I apologize in advance if I keep you up, though.”

The phone call was uncomfortable to listen to, and from the way Yang’s hand made a fist in her shirt, she could tell it was just as uncomfortable to participate in. Taiyang’s voice was loud and upset. Blake tried not to listen, but her hearing was so sensitive that she couldn’t help but hear.

“ _And they just left? Just like that?!_ ”

“Well, I did threaten them with a gun.”

Taiyang’s groan was loud and exaggerated.

“ _Christ, you can’t just point guns at members of the White Fang!_ ”

“It chased them off, didn’t it? And how was I supposed to know they were White Fang?! Isn’t that the point of guns, to scare off intruders?”

“ _Jesus-fucking-Christ, Yang!_ ”

At least Yang came by her vocabulary honestly. Blake winced as the two went back and forth, and she rubbed the length of Yang’s calf in what she hoped was comfort. 

“ _I’ll head over now. We need to talk about--_ ”

“Shit, Dad, no. Don’t. That’s really unnecessary.”

“ _You can’t just tell me there were White Fang on_ my _property and then tell me this is unnecessary. I’m coming over, we’ll figure out a game plan._ ”

When Yang finally ended the call, she was shaking her head. “Dad’s on his way. I figure you heard that?”

“This is my fault,” Blake replied, her voice hard. “God, if only I’d--”

“Don’t even think that!” Yang snapped. Blake flinched at the tone and Yang, realizing how she’d sounded, looked aghast. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“It’s okay, I get it,” Blake replied hurriedly. “Calling your dad stressed you out and--”

“No, no. That’s not it at all.” Yang rubbed her temple. “I’m frustrated at Dad, but that doesn’t mean I can take it out on you. It’s never okay to do that to someone and I should’ve been more careful.”

“But you didn’t _do_ anything. You just sort of… got a little worked up. It’s okay. Really.” She pulled herself up so that she was back on Yang’s level. “I know what you’re trying to say,” she added, her voice soft. “And God, I can’t tell you how much I love that you’re even thinking about me at all.” 

This earned a half-smile from Yang.

“That alone proves how different you are from Adam. With him, he wouldn’t even apologize if he snapped at me, unless it was followed by an excuse that ended up negating that apology anyway. Even on his good days… he was never as thoughtful as you.”

She leaned forward, slightly nervous at being the one to make the move. Yang seemed surprised, but caught Blake’s kiss as it landed. Warmth flooded her, and it wasn’t only because of Yang’s inner heat. Having someone think about her this way was still such a foreign concept. It made her want to cry, and to laugh, and to just hold Yang closer. She compromised with the latter.

Somehow, she did sleep. It was Yang’s phone that woke them up, and she had trouble extricating herself from Blake’s arms in order to answer it. She sighed when she saw who was calling.

“It’s Dad. He’s probably almost here.”

She was right, and Blake jumped out of bed when he gave them fifteen minutes. Yang complained about the short notice, but Blake was relieved they had been able to sneak a nap in. She wasn’t encouraged about this visit, so she needed every boost she could get. 

“I still think it’s stupid that he’s coming at all,” Yang grumbled, pulling her shirt over her head. Blake tried not to stare. Yang had never been modest, but the closer she and Blake had become, the more relaxed she became about things like dressing. Blake always averted her eyes, but she couldn’t help wondering if maybe Yang _wanted_ her to look just a little.

She wouldn’t risk it. Not now, anyway.

“It just means he cares,” Blake replied, trying to drown out the nervousness in her voice with firmness. She hesitated, unsure if she really wanted to ask the next question. “Do you... think your dad is going to kick me out?”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course he won’t.” There was fondness in Yang’s voice but also… determination? “None of this is _your_ fault.”

“But what if he sees me as a liability? Like, if Adam was to do something to you…”

“Baby, you need to listen to me. We’ll take steps to prepare for that if we have to. Who knows, maybe Dad will help us with that somehow. But you can’t keep blaming yourself.” Yang was dressed now, looking the part of a farmer rather than a woman who’d been sleeping in on a Sunday. Her shirt revealed just enough of her collarbone for Blake to imagine kissing it. She blinked furiously to dispel the image. “You can’t keep running from this, because it’ll chase you wherever you go. Even if you escaped to a deserted island, you’d always be wondering ‘what if?’ But we have the power to put a stop to it. I don’t know how or when, but we _will_.”

She was in Yang’s arms again, falling into them, falling into _her_. 

All too soon, Taiyang arrived. Yang opened the door to him, but both women were surprised when he was followed in by another person. Ruby wouldn’t have come, of course, but Blake didn’t recognize the dark-haired man accompanying Taiyang. As she sized him up, Yang made a frustrated groan.

“Why did you bring _him_?”

“Nice to see you, too, sweetheart,” the man drawled. 

“He’s family, so why not?” It was hard to decipher all of Taiyang’s expressions, but none of them were favorable. Blake took a step back behind Yang, who grabbed her hand with an encouraging squeeze.

“Blake, this is Qrow. My uncle.”

“So, you’re the girlfriend. Ruby won’t shut up about you, y’know.”

“Of course she won’t,” Yang muttered. Blake chanced a small smile. Taiyang, as if noticing her for the first time, zoomed his focus onto her.

To her shock, he wrapped her in a warm hug. “I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”

“What--? No!” Blake stammered. She pulled herself out of his grip. “No, I shouldn’t have brought this here, I should have--”

She could see the sadness of Yang’s face at her protestations, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying them. It was Taiyang who stopped her.

“Hey now. No one’s blaming you.” His face looked so much like Yang’s at that moment that it took her by surprise. She glanced over at her girlfriend, whose eyes had never left Blake. “Getting out of that took a lot of guts.”

She didn’t want to hear it. She looked down at her feet and backed up a little. “I didn’t mean to bring any trouble.”

“Do you know who Summer was?” Qrow asked before she could go on. Not meeting his eyes, Blake nodded. A hand brushing hers meant Yang was beside her, and she drew strength from her presence. “She’d helped other people before, y’know. She knew there might be a price. But to her, it was worth it.”

“‘Nobody deserves to live in fear,’” Taiyang said, almost by rote. “That was the one thing she’d tell me, every time she’d helped someone out of a bad situation.” He smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “Yang takes after her, I guess.”

Yang described the situation in more detail as they sat in the living room. Blake wondered if Taiyang was regretting his easy acceptance of her as she included details that weren’t in the original phone call. Sleeping in the hayloft, Ilia’s first visit, everything that had happened the night before…

“That was stupid, Yang,” Qrow declared. He wasn’t looking at anyone, but he’d made himself at home by throwing his long legs onto the coffee table. He’d conjured up a flask and tipped it to his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“The gun. You should have just hunkered down and called the police.” Qrow had stopped drinking, but was pointedly looking at the ceiling.

“Are you kidding? I got them off the property!”

“And now they know you’re armed,” Taiyang pointed out. “If you’d just called the police, you could have hid out. We live on twenty acres, you could’ve found _somewhere_ to hide. The police would have come, chased them off, and we could have planned from there. Instead, you go waltzing out there and wave a gun around. Now, if they come back, they _will_ be armed, only because they know you sure will be.”

Under any other circumstances, Yang’s blush would have been adorable. But the implications of Taiyang’s words were unsettling. She saw them sinking into Yang’s face, morphing her expression into one of distress.

“Shit,” she finally said, turning to Blake anxiously. “So now what?”

“For starters, we can get in touch with the local police about it,” Taiyang said, “so they can keep regular tabs on you guys. They’re really friendly with us, so I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

“And you’ll want them on speed dial, firecracker,” Qrow added. He finally deigned to look at the women. “The White Fang aren’t people you wanna fuck with. How the hell did you get involved with them, Blake?”

Now it was Blake’s turn to blush. “I... got sucked in. As a kid.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re out.” Taiyang’s smile was warm. “And I’m glad my daughter found you.”

His words were unexpected, but it elicited a smile from both of them. Yang’s palm was sweaty, but it squeezed Blake’s. However, their slight bubble of happiness of soon quashed.

“Blake, I think it would be safer for you to move to Vale. You can lay low at Signal for a while, and then--”

“No.”

Everyone turned to Yang, surprised at the vehemence in her voice. Blake, who had been caught off-guard by Taiyang’s suggestion, was having trouble trying to keep her thoughts from spinning out of control. Sensing the tension of her body, Yang put a hand at the small of her back. 

“Hiding isn’t going to solve the problem. From what Blake’s told me about Adam, it won’t help, either. The minute she thinks she’s safe and leaves Signal, he’ll strike. If he somehow figures out where she’s gone, he might even wait for her nearby until she comes out.” Blake was numbly aware of Yang’s other hand, moving around in strong gestures with her words, but it was all she could do to keep up with her words. “Here, though… we still have some control. Sure. I blew it last night. But if we focus on preparing instead of on hiding… maybe we can meet him head-on.”

“With the White Fang.” Taiyang’s voice was low and unconvinced.

“Actually…” Blake interrupted timidly. “Adam isn’t the one in charge of the White Fang. Sienna’s the one who approves all missions. He’ll do what he can privately, but Sienna doesn’t tolerate anything that won’t further the cause.” All eyes were on her, and she didn’t like it. She stared into her lap as she went on. “Not even Adam can use men or explosives without her blessing. He’s got people on his side, and they’ve all got weapons. But it’s not the entire White Fang declaring war on me.”

“So he won’t blow up any buildings or anything?” Yang asked, clarifying.

“No. The White Fang doesn’t stoop to blowing up civilian property.” Her smile was crooked. “Sienna and the council, at least, have some standards. If Adam somehow _did_ get a hold of any bombs and he blew everything up… the White Fang would lose any good standing it has, even with the Faunus.”

“So say Blake stays here,” Qrow said, swishing his flask around before taking a sip. “You’d… what? Wait for him and his friends to attack?”

“With cops for backup,” Yang replied, nodding. “We’ll make a bunker or something. Get security cameras.”

“And this is better than having Blake come to Signal?”

Blake looked at Yang, who was staring her father down. “If she’s here, we’ve got control. We know the land. In Vale, anything happen. It’s better here.”

“And it’s not just because you’re dating?”

Blake’s cheeks burned, but it was nothing against the vivid red of Yang’s eyes. “If I really thought she’d be better off at Signal, I’d say go for it. But doing that is only putting off the inevitable. But here, I _know_ she’s safe.”

“Until she isn’t. Damn it, Yang, you’re hardly an adult yet! Your mother was a seasoned cop, and look how easily some punk took her down! You’re good, but not _that_ good! And you can’t even know what you’re saying-- you haven’t even known this girl for two weeks, and already you’re talking about risking your life--”

Blake wanted to cover both sets of ears, to curl up in a fetal position on the couch. All the composure she’d been steadily building over the time she’d been here, all the comfort in the security of her relationship with Yang, was beginning to crumble. The selfishness of wanting all of this was beginning to smother her. She had no right. She was ruining this family, all because of _her_ problems. She had no right, she had no right. Yang jumped up, about to do something or say something, but Qrow interrupted.

“Are you seriously trying to lecture Yang about love? No offense, but you didn’t know it until it leapt up and bit you on the ass. Not that I’m saying Summer was into that, but shit, Tai, she knew from the beginning.”

The moment held. Taiyang turned to Qrow slowly, his face dark. “Excuse me?”

Qrow sighed. In the long pause, he was able to finish whatever was left in his flask, the silence only broken by his gulps. “I recall you saying Yang takes after her, right? Maybe this is just another case of that.” He gave the women a long look, his gaze inscrutable. Blake was surprised that his eyes were clearer than his drinking had led her to believe they could be. “It could just be my awesome powers of observation--” To that, Taiyang snorted, but Qrow kept right on talking. “--but I could almost _see_ the moment that Summer fell in love with you. You were too busy flirting with Raven to notice, but I saw how differently she acted around you. Just the little things, y’know? The blushing, never looking you right in the eye… She told me at some point that it was just a crush. I would have believed her if it passed, but it never did.” He shook his head, his too-long hair flopping with the motion. Taiyang only stared at him, his expression unreadable. “She always did her best to be happy for you, coping by throwing herself into her studies, her work. Even _Raven_ noticed, and that’s saying something! Instead of plotting to steal you from Raven, Summer only tried to figure out what she could do to make it so you were happy. She didn’t care as much about _my_ happiness, or _Raven’s_ happiness. Only _yours_.”

He raised his flask to his mouth again, but was disappointed when he remembered it was empty. He sighed. “I know I don’t have much of a leg to stand on, considering I’m, like, a lifelong bachelor, but I do teach literature. Love isn’t like the stories, or maybe it’s like all of them. It can be fast, or slow… or two weeks. But who’s to say what there is or isn’t? We’ve only got one life. Summer knew who she loved from the beginning, and look where it got her. Yeah, you ended up with each other in the end, but for how long? Just a few years? Her life wasn’t a long one. Maybe the girls’ lives won’t be long, either. So don’t tell them that what they feel isn’t valid because it hasn’t been long. Sure, two weeks is two weeks, but they’ve seen almost nothing but each other during that time, learning about each other, dealing with intense shit… You can’t fault Yang for doing what’s right, even if there’s risks. If there’s love, then fuckin’ own it. Even if it isn’t, own it anyway. But if she goes through life wondering what might have been different… d’you have a light, Tai? I need a smoke.”

“Outside.” Taiyang looked a bit pale, but he tossed Qrow a lighter anyway. It soared past his hands and over his shoulder. He scowled.

“You were supposed to throw it.”

“And _you_ were supposed to catch it.”

It was almost painful, watching Qrow hunt down the lighter with obvious sluggishness, but he found it in the end. “Just… do what you think is right,” he told Yang, his gravelly voice dismissive. His ramble had derailed.

“If I find any butts outside, your ass is walking home,” Taiyang called as Qrow stumbled through the mudroom.

“‘Butt,’” he echoed, snorting. The door slammed a little harder than he probably meant it to.

“Fine,” Taiyang said, raising his hands in surrender. “If you girls _really_ think you can handle it, and do everything the police suggest, I can’t stop you.”

Yang had sat back down during Qrow’s lengthy monologue, and she was absently rubbing Blake’s thigh. Her eyes, lilac again, were hyper-focused on her father.

“If it wasn’t for kidding season, I’d probably just hire some help and drag both of you to Signal,” he added, raising a finger. “But the animals need experienced hands and familiar faces. I don’t want to lose any kids this year… goat _or_ human.”

Yang sighed. Blake knew Taiyang’s joke was strained, but at least he was in a state of mind to make them at all. 

“And Blake… Please, don’t think for a minute that any of what I’ve said is because I don’t want you here. I’m worried about your safety, and now of Yang’s. I don’t want you to end up back there any more than Yang does, so we just need to exercise caution.” He looked from one woman to the other. He gave in to a small smile. “As I said… I’m glad she found you. And I think you’re doing good for each other. Maybe Qrow’s right, though if you tell him that, I’ve got twenty acres to bury your bodies on.”

This made Yang laugh, so Blake did, too. 

“If there’s love, there’s love. I won’t judge it, no matter how short or long you’ve known each other. As long as you’ve got you’ve got the connection, that’s all that matters.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Yang looked a great deal more relieved as Taiyang stood up.

“Now, I need to pay a visit to my _favorite_ girls.” Yang rolled her eyes as she stood up. Blake, still a bit unnerved by the entire conversation, followed.

The three of them were joined by Qrow out in the barn. Taiyang was in the stall, checking in with each goat individually. He kept exclaiming at their size and at how some of them waddled. “You need to text me as soon as any of them go into labor,” he reminded Yang for the third time. “And pictures as soon as the kids are born.”

“Yes, Dad,” Yang called out yet again, bored. She and Blake were leaning against the wall together, her arms around Blake. Qrow, who didn’t seem the least bit interested in the goats, was watching the couple with a curious expression. 

“It almost _does_ seem like fuckin’ destiny, doesn’t it?” he asked when they noticed his gaze. “That you guys even found each other at all?”

Yang smirked and held Blake closer. Blake had been keeping quiet since the discussion at the house. She was still unnerved by the stretching of all of her emotions, but as usual, Yang was keeping her grounded.

“Seems like it.”

Blake was relieved when the men drove off. Everyone was a little more light-hearted after they’d made arrangements for regular drive-bys by the cops. Taiyang would look into security services as well, and assured them that he’d have cameras installed as soon as he could arrange it. Blake had tried to apologize for making them go through all this trouble, but Taiyang had waved those apologies away.

“It’s something Summer would have done,” was all he would say about it. 

“God, he’s exhausting,” Yang sighed. “But I’m glad he’s helping us.”

Blake nodded. Words were beyond her.

“D’you want to lay down for a bit?”

Again, she nodded. The two of them walked back to the house, enjoying the sunshine that had emerged. It was still cold, but the frost was gone. The chill was almost tolerable.

Blake tried to protest as Yang took her jacket off for her. “I can do that myself,” she said, but Yang was too quick. Her other arm was already out of the sleeve and Yang was hanging it up.

“I know you _can_. But I like helping.”

Yang repeated this claim as she helped Blake change back into her pajamas. There was nothing sexual in the way she pulled Blake’s shirt over her head, though Blake was aware of how red her own cheeks were turning. In the back of her head, she marveled at the ease with which Yang unclasped her bra for her. A bra clasp always frustrated Adam, but Yang made it seem painless. She slipped the straps over Blake’s arms, but did not ogle. This wasn’t foreplay. It was deeper than that.

As Yang reached for the baggy t-shirt, Blake threw her arms around her. She couldn’t look into Yang’s eyes right now, too afraid of what might or might not be there, but she pressed her body into hers. It was contact she sought, nothing beyond that. And it was what Yang gave to her. That warm sensation of Yang’s hands gliding across Blake’s back, the skin-to-skin that was immediately calming. Light kisses trickled down Blake’s neck, her shoulder, her arm. These simple touches alone would have sustained her for the rest of her life.

“We both could use a nap,” Yang commented. Her wandering hands on Blake’s back slowed, then ceased altogether. Blake pulled away enough to be able to look into Yang’s face. She could see the tiredness in it, but she could also see the radiant glow. It was a look, Blake knew without really knowing, that was reserved for her alone. “But I do want to kiss you first.”

It was as though her lips had been waiting for Yang’s for hours, since Taiyang and Qrow had visited. She was hungry for them. Yang, too, seemed to be feeling that way, for her mouth was quick, even as she pushed Blake into her pillow while she assumed a place above her. Her hand on Blake’s side was electrifying and she arched her back, to put her body back in contact with Yang. She felt Yang’s lips twitch in a smile. She curved an arm under Blake’s back, reeling her in, letting the curves of their bodies meet just long enough to tease before releasing her gently. Their lips parted.

Yang settled down beside her, pulling Blake close. “You’re so beautiful,” Yang murmured, running an arm up Blake’s back one more time. She took a deep breath-- was there a hitch to that breath? “I’m glad… that Dad isn’t making you leave. Because I would have followed you.”

“Yang.” Blake’s own voice was soft, but not quite a whisper. “I really wish I hadn’t brought this down on you guys.”

“There isn’t a line between ‘you’ and ‘me’ anymore, baby,” Yang replied, just a gently. “From here on out, I’ll be here for you. And you’ll be here for me.” She paused. “We’ll take care of each other. Nothing will get through our wall.”

Even though she was only half-dressed, and even though Yang hadn’t gotten changed at all, and even though there were still people out there against them, and even though there were so many uncertainties left to fight-- sleep still came for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got sick like, the minute I published that last chapter, so writing this one has been a mess. Huge shout-out to my baby sister Sunnyteea for being my beta-reader (bless her heart, she helped my sick-addled brain remember the term 'coffee table').
> 
> Hopefully, I'll be back at my regular pace before we know it! xoxo


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: there will be mentions of past domestic violence and self-injury in this chapter. 
> 
> I've also gone ahead and changed the maturity rating for this fic. Not for this chapter... but for very soon. Sorry not sorry?

“What kind of movie tonight?” Yang asked, digging through a giant tub of DVDs. 

“Something stupid. Or cute. Or both?”

“Rom-com!” Yang pulled one out. “Have you seen this one?”

“I haven’t watched many rom-coms,” Blake told her with a small smile. “It’s probably a safe choice.”

“Really? Man, I’m gonna to have to indoctrinate you. Once you’re hooked, you’ll be wondering why I didn’t show any to you sooner!” She popped the DVD into the player before bouncing into the cushion beside Blake, throwing her feet onto the coffee table and an arm around Blake’s shoulders.

Blake snuggled in. She felt much more rested after her nap. She had been so _comfortable_ when she woke up. Yang had pulled a blanket around them at some point during the nap, so when Blake woke, she was still warm, even without Yang’s presence. A small note had been left on Yang’s pillow, written in a scrawl that she was out to tend the animals and would be back shortly.

She had smiled at the small heart drawn beside Yang’s name.

“Ruby _hates_ rom-coms, so we always fight on movie nights. You don’t gag during movies, do you?” Yang gave Blake a suspicious look. “There will be no gagging on the premises.”

“Or what?”

“Or you’re sleeping in the barn!”

“Again?”

The mood in the house was a lot lighter now than it had been earlier that day. The nap had energized them, making the coming night a lot brighter. Yang had put her hair up and insisted that they have a date night, which meant a movie after dinner. They’d watched movies together before, but not with the official declaration of a date.

They hadn’t done anything with that kind of declaration before, actually.

“Does being on a date mean we’re actually going to watch the movie without you talking through it?” Blake asked with a teasing smile.

“No promises! I can guarantee interruptions of a different kind, though,” Yang promised, poking her gently in the side. Blake wriggled a bit at the touch, which made Yang laugh.

In the end, Blake couldn’t understand what Yang liked so much about rom-coms. It didn’t help that she couldn’t pay much attention to the movie itself; Yang had been true to her word that there would be plenty of other interruptions.

“I’m thinking tomorrow, we go out to lunch,” Yang suggested as she put the movie away.

“Oh?”

“There’s a nice little diner not too far from here. They make great sandwiches. And pies. I like their pies.” Yang sank back onto the couch beside Blake, taking her in her arms again. “You haven’t really seen much of the town, have you?”

“Not really. I sorta avoided it on my way here, remember?” Blake threaded her limbs through Yang’s arms and legs and around her body, weaving them together in a loose, comfortable tapestry.

“Oh yeah…” Yang distracted face buried itself in the crook of Blake’s neck. She laughed at the tickle of her lips on that sensitive flesh and the light nips Yang made at it. “It means we’re overdue, then” she finally told Blake.

“I’m looking forward to it.” Blake closed her eyes as Yang kissed her neck again, and again, and again.

By the time they woke up the next morning, the events of the previous day and night almost felt like a dream. The fear and solemnity had almost disappeared. If it hadn’t been for Blake’s nightmare, all might have been back to normal.

Ilia had made a surprise appearance that night, using the words she had told Blake a year before, “ _I know, Blake, but really, he’s just here to help. It’s for the best, you’ll see!_ ” Only in this dream, Ilia was there, encouraging her, as Adam grabbed her shoulders to slam her down and--

“Just a nightmare, babe. You’re here, you’re safe, with me,” Yang assured her, her words full of sleep and concerned as she cuddled a trembling Blake against her.

Perhaps it was Ilia’s presence in this one that made it difficult for Blake to calm down. It brought back too many harsh memories, and seeing her _here_ had only solidified the fact that her past was still biting at her heels. It was a miracle that she was able to get back to sleep at all after that one. It hit too close to home.

She tucked the dream into the very back of her mind in the morning. Since she and Yang hadn’t done much work yesterday, they were working double-time to get things done. The arrival of frost meant the farm was now a ticking bomb. The plants would soon die, or shed their leaves for winter. The pumpkins, Yang told her, would be okay for a little while, but soon, they’d need to harvest the remaining ones. The morning was dedicated to checking on and harvesting cauliflower, cabbage, and what was left of the kale. 

“I didn’t know so much grew so late,” Blake commented, taking off her glove to wipe her face. It was an exhausting morning, but at least it kept her mind off Ilia and Adam.

“Farms never sleep! The plants might go dormant, but the farm itself never does.” Yang placed the last couple cabbages in the handcart before joining Blake. “Before you know it, I’ll have seed catalogs all over the place and we’ll be starting seeds for spring!”

“I’ve never actually grown anything from seed before. I’m worried I’ll kill everything.” Blake’s comment made Yang snort with laughter.

“Darlin’, you won’t even have a chance to. I’ll make you a pro before you even touch a seed!” 

How could a woman make confidence look so damn sexy? Blake regarded Yang’s smirk with a small smile of her own, the twitch at the corner of her mouth an invitation. Yang accepted, sliding her fingers into Blake’s hair as she pressed a kiss to her mouth.

Yang assured her the diner was casual enough that they wouldn’t need a shower before lunch. Ruby and Yang had apparently spent many summer afternoons there, plowing through lunches and pies during their short lunch breaks. The owner knew the Xiao Long-Rose family well, and understood the streaks of dirt on their faces and mud on their boots. They even sourced many of their own ingredients from the farm. The blood between diner and farm was good blood.

“The pies are seriously as big as your head,” Yang reminded her, taking her hands off the steering wheel to to demonstrate the height. Blake laughed.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You ready to put money on it, Belladonna? Because I have a feeling I’ll soon be a rich woman.”

“You do know that I’m completely broke, right?”

Yang smirked. “And who says I’m not already rich?” She put a hand on Blake’s thigh, making her blush. “I don’t need money to consider myself a rich woman.”

Ren’s Diner was just as relaxed as Yang had promised. Since it was lunchtime, it was a little busy, but the two of them were seated at a booth right away. Yang seemed to know what she wanted already, so she chatted with the waitress while Blake studied the menu. 

“Seriously?! Pantsing is a thing again?!” 

“I know! These old fads making comebacks makes me feel old as hell,” Yang sighed dramatically. “And Ruby is _all_ over it.”

“Of course she is! She’s always been that type! Remember when she--”

“I think I’m ready to order,” Blake interrupted. The waitress’ blue eyes went wide.

“Say, uh… who is this?” she demanded of Yang, as if she hadn’t seen Blake before that moment. Blake looked down, a blush creeping into her cheeks, but Yang grinned.

“My girlfriend, Blake. She’s helping me out at the farm while Dad’s in Vale. She--”

“Oh my _GOD_!” the waitress shrieked. Blake’s cat ears sank low against her head in embarrassment as some of the nearby customers turned to look at them. “I had _no idea_ you were seeing someone!”

“It’s pretty new still!” Yang laughed. “And I haven’t really been off the farm much.”

“Sooo, how’d you meet?”

“Shouldn’t we place our order first?” Blake asked, a bit nervous to disrupt the waitress’ manic energy. To her relief, the waitress grinned.

“Ahhh, that’s probably a good idea. What’d you like, Blake?”

“I was thinking maybe the fried catfish… if that's okay?” Her amber eyes flickered up to Yang, who only blinked in surprise.

“Babe, you don't need permission on what to order. If that's what you want, go for it.”

It was a novel concept. Still, Blake couldn't shake the anxiety of not having her order criticized. Was this what “normal” looked like?

“I do recommend the sweet potato fries, though!” Yang went on. “Even if you don't like it, I'll eat ‘em.”

“And if Yang doesn't, I will!” the waitress added with a toothy grin.

“She's… interesting,” Blake told Yang in a low voice after the waitress left with their orders. Yang bobbed her head in agreement.

“And she doesn't even drink coffee! Can you believe that? I don't think Ren even lets her. She's punchy enough without it.” Blake could see that. “So… did he, like… police everything you ordered at restaurants?” Yang’s voice was lower now, more serious.

“We never went to restaurants. He doesn’t really like being seen by people outside the White Fang. So we’d order take-out a lot… but yeah. I always had to check with him before ordering anything for myself. If I just went ahead and ordered it anyway, he’d tell me I couldn’t have it.” She couldn’t meet Yang’s eyes as she spoke. Saying it out loud made it sound shameful. Going to a restaurant with Yang was like eating on another planet. Yang reached a hand across the table to where Blake was shredding her napkin, taking her hand in hers and running a thumb over Blake’s knuckles.

“How many ways can one person be an asshole?” she asked, her voice still low.

“I could write a book,” Blake said with a forced laugh. “And honestly, I was so sure it was normal. I thought I could tolerate it. Until…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. Yang squeezed her hand. “Never again,” she promised Blake.

The moment was interrupted when the waitress returned with a tray of drinks. She saw them holding hands and made a noise that could’ve been a bray. “How cuuute!” she squealed. “Seriously, Yang, it’s about time you found someone. Now we can go on double dates!”

“Double dates?” Blake asked faintly, but was drowned out by Yang’s laughter.

“Maybe once we finish the fall harvest. We’ll have a little more time in winter. We could all take a trip to Vale,” Yang suggested. The waitress was nodding happily.

“We hardly get to go since Ren’s dad got sick. But we really could use a day in the city! I’m so jealous you get to go every week!”

“It’s not like we get to do much when we go. The market keeps us busy.”

“Still… I miss the food trucks.”

Blake tried to discreetly look for a name tag on the waitress. If Yang was this familiar with her, it was probably a good idea to figure out who she was, especially if they really did go on a double date. To her frustration, there was no name tag to be found.

“Nora! We need you back here,” a mild voice called from the kitchen. The waitress-- Nora, apparently-- heaved a long-suffering sigh. 

“I’ll be back. Let me know if you need more coffee or tea. Oh, I’m just so excited for you two!” Nora was still gushing as she spun around and trotted off.

“Double date? Really?” Blake asked. Yang rolled her eyes.

“Every time she brings up the idea of dating, she always mentions how much fun a double date would be. And y'know, maybe a day with her and Ren might not be so bad.”

“I'm exhausted just thinking about it,” Blake remarked, taking a sip of her tea. 

“She's actually really nice. I've known her a couple years now, and even though she's a bit… energetic, she can be kind of fun.” Yang dumped several packets of sugar into her coffee and gave it a quick stir. “And wait till you meet Ren. He's nothing like her, but they get along so well.”

As they finished, she did get to meet Ren. The contrast between him and Nora truly was shocking, though she would never have mentioned this to either of them. As Nora took away their food, Blake leaned closer to Yang. “You weren't kidding,” she muttered.

“Told ya. And now I'm about to win my bet about the pie.”

“Did we ever decide there _was_ a bet?”

Blake's jaw dropped at the single piece of lemon meringue pie Nora put between them. The meringue alone was definitely taller than her face. Yang burst out laughing.

“They don't skimp on the meringue, do they?”

“I… don't know how much of this I can eat.”

“That's why I ordered one slice,” Yang replied cheerfully, scooping up a generous forkful. She held it to Blake's mouth. “It's better to share.”

Blake bit down on the proffered pie. She was aware of Nora watching them from a few booths down, but she found that she really didn't care. In the end, the pie was sweet. Yang was sweeter.

They started their afternoon work in the farm stand, organizing inventory and checking to make sure the produce still looked okay. There was a small kitchen in the back where Yang baked bread and other goodies a few times a week. That next morning, she told Blake, she would start teaching her how to bake yeast breads from scratch.

“When I'm ambitious, I also make things like cinnamon rolls or fancier kinds of bread,” she explained as she walked Blake around the kitchen, “but I've been off my game for a few weeks. Having you help me will be great!”

Blake, who had never baked anything in her life, had her doubts.

The massive sink was for washing produce, and there was a scale to measure out the correct amount of vegetables for bagging. All things Blake had seen in the few times they’d brought fresh vegetables here, but this was the first time Yang was showing her where the ingredients were kept. Not that Blake knew the difference between bread flour and all-purpose flour, or what sourdough starter was. She tried to commit everything to memory and prayed it would make more sense once she knew what these ingredients were for.

At one point, Taiyang called to let them know that a security company would be setting the cameras up the next day. Hearing this was a relief, and from the way Yang’s shoulders sagged, she knew that she felt the same.

“He doesn’t waste any time, does he?” Blake asked as Yang hung up.

“He gets things done,” she replied, sticking her phone in her pocket. She ran her fingers up Blake’s side. “That’s what makes him such a good farmer.”

“So are you,” Blake made sure to point out. Yang chuckled.

“Had to learn it somewhere.” She leaned in, and for a few moments, they were in a world of their own. A world of lips, and tongues, and simple joy.

The _ding_ from Yang’s phone made it all crash back down. She sighed, and pulled out the phone.

“A customer?” Blake asked. Yang nodded.

“You should probably wait in here until we know it’s safe. I’ll leave the door cracked, and I’ll call for you if it’s safe. If I don’t… just don’t come out.”

The kiss Yang gave her before leaving the kitchen was a distracted one. Blake chewed the inside of her cheek nervously. She wished it didn’t have to be like this. And it wouldn’t be for much longer, she told herself. The security cameras would let them know whoever showed up on the property. This anxiety wouldn’t last.

“I have to admit, you’ve got quite a set to show your face around here again,” Yang said, her voice flinty. Blake stopped moving.

“I’m alone, aren’t I?” That was Ilia’s voice. “And you did say we could talk like… I think you said, ‘like a proper fucking lady’, right?”

“Sounds about right,” Yang acknowledged. “And these _are_ business hours.”

“So, let’s talk.”

Back to the wall, Blake slid to the floor soundlessly. Was this a repeat of the other night? What was Ilia doing?!

There was a moment of silence. Blake strained her ears, trying to make out words that weren’t being said. God, how she wished she could see what was going on. At least there were no sounds of a struggle.

“See? I know you know who Blake is. You’re kissing her in this picture.”

“It’s a nice picture,” Yang commented. “Can I keep it?”

“She has a boyfriend.”

“Not anymore, I’d say.”

“He’s worried about her.”

There was another silence. Blake pressed a hand into her stomach, willing the nausea to go away. She was trembling. This day had started out so beautifully. She didn’t understand where it had gone wrong.

“Look, uh… your name is Yang, right? She’s probably told you some things. She did the same thing to me a year ago. She told me her boyfriend, Adam, broke her ribs. But it was a lie. She has some... mental issues. He tries to keep her on her meds, but she managed to get away a couple weeks ago. She’s been unmedicated since then. I’m worried about her safety.”

“Did Blake tell you about being on meds?” Yang asked. It was astounding how reasonable her voice sounded. She couldn’t possibly believe Ilia… could she?

“No. Adam did. When she came to me last year, I did believe her at first. She showed me these awful burns-- but she made them _herself_.” Blake balled her hands into fists. She’d buried the memory of Adam’s smooth cover-up. “And I _know_ that’s true, because she told me before that she used to… hurt herself. Kinda like that. But now she’s blaming Adam for it. I’m sorry we snuck onto the property the other night, but really, I don’t want her behavior to get any worse. We just want her safe.”

More silence. Blake was fighting the angry tears welling in her eyes, but it was a losing battle. How _dare_ Ilia bring up the past like this? She hadn’t mentioned past self-injury to Yang; there had been so many other pressing problems, and it had been so long since she’d done it that she hadn’t thought it necessary. But it was the one thing that ended up turning Ilia against her. Her heart fell as she thought of it being the thing that might have Yang doing the same.

“I see. So if she told you herself years ago that she used to harm herself somehow… why would she change her tune now? Why suddenly blame Adam if you already knew the truth?”

“Because she’s sick!” Ilia snapped. “I know Adam. He doesn’t hurt the people he cares about. He doesn’t burn them, or break their ribs, or… any of it. I’ve known him longer than I’ve known Blake. If you knew him, you’d know the truth, too.”

She was going to puke. She _knew_ she was going to puke. Blake bit her tongue hard, closed her eyes, and tried to think of herself somewhere else. _Any_ where else.

“She trusted you, Ilia,” Yang replied. Her voice was hard. “She trusted you with _all_ of that. But in the end, you chose her abuser over her. How could you call herself her friend when you brought him right back to her?”

“Aren’t you _listening_ to me?!” Ilia demanded. “She’s a _liar_.”

“ _You_ need to listen to _me_ now!” Rage exploded into Yang’s voice. It was unmatched even by her anger from a couple nights before. “If you can do _all of this_ for Adam without seeing his fucking _obsession_ , then _you’re_ the crazy one, Ilia! How you could just stand _by_ while she was being _hurt_ and honestly think that she was the one at fault is nothing short of _disgusting_.”

“But she--”

“ _You are not listening!_ ” There was a slam-- a fist on a table? “People don’t _break their ribs_ by themselves! People don’t suddenly start blaming their boyfriends for their own supposed self-harm! People don’t end up with _handprints on their necks_ just because they felt like it!”

Blake wasn’t sure if she dared to breathe in the silence. She no longer felt as though she was going to vomit, but tears were leaking from her eyes. If she stayed very still, and kept very quiet, maybe she would disappear. She wanted nothing more than for Yang to come to her, to hold her, to wake her from this nightmare. Her heart called out to the blonde woman.

“...I don’t understand. What handprints?”

There was a pause, then a soft, “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Tell me,” Ilia pressed. 

“Adam tried to kill her,” Yang said after an uncomfortable moment. “And that’s exactly what’ll happen if you drag her back. From the things he told you, he’ll probably make it look like a suicide.”

It was a logical leap that even Blake’s stressed mind could understand. She’d even considered that idea herself. Wouldn’t it fit the narrative perfectly?

“He… wouldn’t do that.”

“The state of denial you live in must be comfortable as hell,” Yang remarked bitterly.

There was no response for such a long time that Blake was beginning to wonder if this wasn’t a dream after all. She couldn’t hear _anything_. No words, no movement, nothing.

“If this is all you had to say, then I think we’re done here,” Yang said at last. “I’ve got a farm to run. I don’t want to see you or any of your friends on my property again, even during business hours.”

“Adam won’t let it go,” Ilia replied, her voice subdued. “Even if what you told me is true… he won’t stop until he has her back.”

“Then I guess it’s war.”

Blake didn’t move, even after she heard the door close and a car pull away. Memories were crashing around her, throbbing in her ears. Ilia’s voice, so familiar, so close. She had considered Ilia her best friend for so long and ultimately, Adam had stolen her. Who was to say Adam couldn’t do the same thing to Yang? Not that he would, she reminded herself. The price of anyone other than him kissing Blake was a high one.

“She’s gone,” Yang called. She sounded so calm. 

Blake wiped her eyes and got shakily to her feet. She needed to look put together. A part of her was afraid Yang would yell at her, for hiding her history of self-injury. If she was able to be as calm as Yang sounded, maybe they could get through whatever conversation awaited.

“For a spy-picture, it really isn’t that bad.” Yang was hunched over a picture next to a basket of soaps. “We should frame it. I’m not one for kissy pictures, but--” She looked up, her face devoid of expression. It softened when she looked Blake over. “You’ve been crying.”

Shame-faced, Blake approached. She couldn’t look at Yang. She couldn’t even look at the photo. She stared at her feet. Yang put a hand on her cheek, her thumb wiping at the tear-tracks that Blake hadn’t been able to erase. “Are you mad?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

“Oh, baby,” Yang murmured. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I never told you--”

Blake didn’t see the kiss coming. It was meant to silence her, and it did.

“You haven’t done _anything_ wrong,” Yang said, her voice just as quiet as Blake’s, her lips within inches of her own. “What _was_ wrong was that Adam took your past and twisted it to make you his prisoner. And that Ilia believed it.”

She felt guilty, and relieved, when Yang pulled her into an embrace. Those hands, rubbing her back, were so welcome. She released a long, shuddery breath, and rested her head against Yang.

“I keep thinking that I’ve heard the worst I can hear, and then there’s always more,” Yang told her softly. “I don’t understand how people that _evil_ can exist. It makes me more and more grateful, every single day, that you got away from that.”

“I’m so glad I found you.” Blake tried to keep the weepiness from her voice, but failed. The tears were falling again, and she knew the damp shadow they were leaving on Yang’s sweatshirt, but was helpless to stop them. Yang pushed her chin up, then brushed the tears away from her cheeks. 

She hated, _hated_ showing weakness like this, but even so, she held onto Yang tightly. She felt those farmer’s fingers, catching the tears as they blinked out of her eyes, but she still couldn’t look into Yang’s. She didn’t want meet them and risk seeing her own past reflected there. It had been chasing her so hard, so doggedly, and it was all catching up to her faster than she wanted.

“Baby… please look at me,” Yang pleaded.

How could she resist her voice? Taking a deep breath, she looked up.

She should have known her past wouldn’t be staring out of Yang’s eyes. Not Yang, who was so kind, so safe, so loving. There was no sign of Adam’s hostility, or Ilia’s disbelief, or her own fear. There was only Yang, her lilac eyes so soft. Every muscle in her brow was only moved by concern, by affection. Even the gentle exhales she felt against her lips were comforting.

“I know you’re afraid,” Yang said, cupping her cheek in her palm. “I can _see_ how afraid you are.”

“I don’t want to be.” Blake wrapped her hands in Yang’s hoodie, the fabric tight against her fists.

“It’s all right to be afraid. _I’m_ afraid. When you’re with me, you’re allowed to feel however you need to feel.” Yang pressed her lips against her cheek, against the salty tear stains. “We’re together, baby. We’re going to take care of each other. No matter how scared we are, or how sad, or how angry… we’ll have each other through all of it.”

She kissed Blake’s cheek again. “I know you’ve been hurt. I know you’ve been betrayed. But I swear, I’ll never let that happen to you again. I love you too much for that.”

Yang’s voice gave uncharacteristic crack in her last sentence. Blake clutched her closer. There was that word again. She remembered Taiyang’s reservations about the amount of time they’d known each other, but also what Qrow had said. Love isn’t like the stories, or maybe it’s like all of them. She unhooked her hand from the sweatshirt and placed it in Yang’s hand.

“I think… I think I do, too.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains descriptions of goat birth... and etc.

“Wake up!”

Blake grumbled incoherently and batted at Yang. 

“Oh, stop that. Get up. Venus is pushing.”

That got Blake up. Sure enough, on the baby monitor, the goat was on her side, straining. While checking on the goats that evening, Yang had pointed out the signs of labor in one of them. It was a couple days early, but Yang had assured her that Venus had kidded early for the past two years to no ill effect. But this would be the first goat birth of the season, and Blake had been getting increasingly nervous about this over the past week. Time to see what kidding season was all about.

Of course it would start in the middle of the night.

They didn’t bother getting changed. They dashed to the mudroom to pull on jackets and boots. Blake’s heart was racing. As they darted out into the cold night air, Yang had her phone out, sending the promised text to Taiyang. Their breath streamed out behind them, but neither seemed to notice. The adrenaline was warming their bones.

Venus had been moved to her own stall after Yang had noticed the doe’s discharge and behavioral changes. A heat lamp had been set in the corner for the coming kids in anticipation of the freezing temperatures. Venus herself now lay in the straw, panting. A large bubble was protruding from her backside, but Yang pointed out tiny white nubs within.

“Hooves,” she breathed. Another contraction hit, and Venus cried out as she pushed again. Yang grabbed one of the towels she had placed nearby, laying it underneath the emerging kid.

The bubble burst and the kid slid out onto the towel. Yang wiped at its mouth and Blake watched, amazed, as the eyelids fluttered open. Venus turned her head to the kid and began to lick at the mess. Blake’s mouth had dropped open and she could only stare while Yang deftly unsheathed the kid from the amniotic sac. 

“It’s a boy!” she announced, rubbing at the wet fur with a towel. As if in protest of his sex, the kid wailed. Venus huffed and lapped at his head, uncaring of Yang’s insistent help. 

“What do we do?” Blake asked, knowing her voice was a squeak. “Do… we need to get him to nurse?”

“Not yet.” Yang, fully in her element, was glowing. “They usually won’t let the kid nurse until all the kids are born.”

“So there’s more?”

Yang jerked her head to the doe again, who was laying back down. Venus was grunting, all notions of the little buckling forgotten as she pushed again. 

“Catch it, Blake!” Yang ordered, thrusting another towel at her. Shaking, Blake repeated what Yang had done for the first kid, but this one was much faster. She barely got the towel down in time before the kid plopped onto it.

“Clear the airway,” Yang instructed. Blake pulled the amniotic sac away to wipe at the mouth. This kid was already lifting its head up, sneezing, fighting Blake’s efforts. “Boy or girl?”

“How do I tell?” she asked stupidly. Yang’s laugh was jittery. 

“Does it have balls or not?”

“Oh! I was only thinking… like… it’s hard to tell with cats…” Blake rubbed the kid, gracelessly flipping it over. The kid flailed in alarm, so it took a moment for Blake to be able to figure out the sex.

“No balls, I think?”

“Great!” Yang had set her buckling down, where it was trying to stand on shaky feet. “I’ll take my ice cream with no nuts, please!” She winked at Blake, who blushed a hot scarlet.

Amniotic sac off, Venus was now standing to lick this second baby. The goat’s eyes were dilated, focused on nothing other than the baby she was licking with quick strokes of her tongue. The buckling was standing now, wobbling over to his mother, crying out. She shifted, not letting him near. Yang frowned, pushing at Venus a little to get a look at her rump. “Oh, yep. There’s another.”

“What?!”

Yang had told her that multiple births were common, but she really didn’t expect such a small goat to carry so many babies. Seeing it was another thing entirely.

“Hand me a towel, Blake.” Somehow, she’d missed this third birth. Yang was holding the smallest kid yet against her sweatshirt. She rubbed at the kid with her sleeves, peeling away the thin membrane from its face. “It’s another girl.”

The newest kid stirred to life, wriggling frantically against her captor. Venus swung around to face Yang in order to lick at the newest arrival. There was now a chorus of small noises that sounded almost like squeaky dog toys as the kids screamed. The first two kids were stumbling at each other, then at Venus. The buckling stabbed his face at Venus’ belly, hunting for a teat. 

“You can do it, little guy. It’s not that hard,” Yang told him encouragingly. She had cleared most of the mess off of the little doeling and placed her at Venus’ side. This doeling had slightly floppy ears, and markings above her eyes that made her look almost surprised.

“Wow,” Blake finally said, watching the triplets figure out their new little bodies. “That’s… incredible.”

“That was a great one,” Yang agreed, moving over to sit beside her. “It looks like she’s done. I bounced her belly after the third one popped out, and I didn’t feel anymore babies. She’ll pass the placenta in the next few hours, so we’ll check on that in the morning. We’ll just make sure these guys are nursing, then we can get back to bed.”

Though the first two nursed without problem, the littlest doeling struggled. Blake held Venus still while Yang, with the patience of a saint, spent twenty minutes helping her find the teat. 

“God, you’re so cute, but damn, the teat is _right here_ ,” Yang said with a sigh. She stuck the doeling under the heat lamp for a short while, and then they tried again. At last, the little doeling latched on and sucked with enthusiasm, the little tail wagging back and forth at lightning speed.

Blake stood up, her muscles stiff from crouching beside Venus. The babies were settling down, except the one that was nursing. Yang had emphasized a few days ago that it was important for the baby goats to get the colostrum, the first milk that came after birth. Now that all of the triplets had figured out how to get it, they could relax.

“They’re so little,” Blake marvelled. Yang smiled, but the nervousness of it had evaporated with the smooth kidding. All was calm again in their world. Her expression was almost sleepy as she gazed at Blake fondly.

“And they grow really fast, so you have to enjoy their size while you can,” she told her. “They’re harder to snuggle once they grow up.”

“I’ll always have you to snuggle, though, so I think I’ll live.” To demonstrate her point, Blake wrapped her arms around Yang’s middle. Touch had gotten easier over the past couple of weeks with a lot of practice, and now she couldn’t imagine life without it. Yang returned it by throwing her own arms around Blake’s shoulders. 

It might have been the influence of witnessing such a touching moment together, but their kiss was long and passionate. Blake was hungry for the taste of Yang’s tongue on her own. They might have kept going till morning had Yang not pulled back, laughing. “I’m covered in amniotic fluid, and we have things to do in the morning. Let’s get back to the house.”

Blake let out a long sigh, but agreed. Wrapping their hands in their sleeves, they walked back to the house, arm-in-arm.

“Get that sweatshirt off and I’ll put it in the wash,” Blake said reaching a hand out for it. 

“Throw yours in, too. It’s not as bad as mine, but it’s still pretty bad.” Yang tossed her the sweatshirt and gave a shiver. “It’s cold out there. Could you turn the heat up, too?”

“You’re pretty demanding tonight.” Blake grinned.

“Oh, please. If this is demanding, wait until we’ve got three goats kidding at once!”

In the time since Ilia’s last visit, there had been no further unexpected visitors. Blake knew this was only the calm before the storm, but she couldn’t stop herself from enjoying this time. The nightmares had ceased once more, so her days and her nights only belonged to Yang. She had almost expected her feelings for her to ebb, but time only reinforced them. No other relationship in her life had rivaled the one she shared with Yang in any way. Such closeness seemed miraculous.

Qrow had made a joke about their meeting being destiny. Blake was less and less sure every day that it was a joke.

“How’d you get amniotic fluid on your shirt?” she asked with a laugh. Yang was scrubbing her arms in the kitchen sink, but Blake could see smear of mystery fluid on her hem.

“Hmm?” Yang looked down. “Oh. Anything’s possible during kidding season. Here, get your hands washed.”

She came up to the sink, pushing Yang away with her butt. This made the farmer let out a gleeful laugh. “You’re getting feisty, Belladonna.”

“I think I’m just charged. That was such a cool thing to see.”

“I could get used to this!” Yang gave Blake’s ass a light slap, then made her way toward the laundry room, pulling her shirt over her head.

The hot water ran over Blake’s unmoving hands much longer than it needed to as she stared at the muscles of Yang’s back. Her body was still mostly unknown territory to her, but once in a while, Yang would do something or say something that made it unclear if it should remain that way.

This had her doubting it more than ever.

She blinked, trying to root herself back in reality. She shut the faucet off and dried her hands, keeping her eyes ahead of her and not at the siren in her periphery.

“Let’s get to bed. We deserve some sleep,” Yang told her, yawning for emphasis.

“Coming.”

Blake’s mouth had gone dry, but she tried to play it cool as she followed Yang back to their bedroom. Watching her just _walk_ was hypnotizing. When Yang reached the door, she knew she had to say something-- _anything_ \-- to break this spell.

“You’re beautiful,” Blake blurted out. Yang halted midstep, one hand on the doorframe. She turned her head in what _felt_ like slow-motion. There was an odd smile on her lips, a smile that made Blake want to have those lips on her own right that minute.

So she did, clearing the space between them in hurried steps. She put her hands on Yang’s waist, needing to feel that soft skin beneath her hands. As she kissed her, her hands explored that flesh and those sloping curves with desperation. Yang’s own hands grabbed at Blake’s shirt, interrupting their kiss long enough to pull it over her head and toss it to the ground.

She was vaguely aware that they were moving in the direction of their bed, toppling onto it with no grace and no cares. Blake’s head crashed into the pillows, her blood pounding in her ears, and Yang crawled atop her. To her credit, she tried to take her time, to move her shaking hands slowly across Yang’s breasts, to savor they way gave against her fingers. Yang, too, was exploring _her_ body, the quick heaving of her chest betraying the intensity of her own desire. 

“Watching you with the kids tonight...” Yang told her breathlessly. She shook her head, as though to reorganize that train of thought through the crashing wave of passion. “All I could see… was your face. Was you.” Blake raised her hips in response to feeling a hand on her waistband. Yang tugged, pulling them down, off. Any cold air that came for her was shielded by the heat of Yang’s body. “My head is full of you. I can’t, I… I _need_ …”

Coherent words were lost as Blake slipped Yang’s own waistband over her hips. Yang pushed them down further, rolling to the side to pull them off, to cast them off as an irritation. The touch of her body on Blake’s own was enough to make her groan in relief at how _right_ this sensation was. She drew in long, ragged breaths as Yang’s fingers traced down her stomach, dividing her body in half right until the imaginary line turned to physical cleft.

Blake’s nails dug into Yang’s back, small gasps escaping as Yang’s fingers were _inside her_. Her noises were lost to Yang’s mouth, as well, those moans that were flowing out of her as readily as her own wetness was. This was so wild, so different. _This_ was how love was _supposed_ to feel.

She arched her back, and Yang’s free hand ran along her spine, sending goosebumps racing along her skin. She pulled back to meet Yang’s eyes as she felt her body begin the rise toward climax. Had anyone done this for her body before? No. Her body had been nothing more than a tool before, and certainly not one for her own pleasures. But this… this…

Oh, but it was now.

She let out a small cry as her body convulsed beneath Yang, who slowed the motion of her fingers. Those purple eyes were locked onto her, Yang’s swollen lips quirking into a smile as Blake pulled her close, almost too tightly, against her.

“Oh my God,” Blake hissed, regaining enough of herself to loosen her grip. “ _Fuck_.”

“It’s so hot when you swear.”

“No one’s… done that. For me. Ever.”

Yang’s blonde eyebrows shot nearly into her hair. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

The look of confusion on Yang’s face was sort of cute, and then she replaced it with a look of determination. Her eyes glinted. “Then you need someone to _really_ treat you right.”

Blake tried to protest as Yang slithered down her body. She wanted to try what had been done to her, to feel how Yang felt around her own fingers. Another part of her ordered her to reciprocate, but Yang had taken Blake’s admission as a directive. Those voices were silenced as she pulled Blake to the edge of the bed and pushed her thighs apart. 

Without Yang to hold onto, Blake could only grab the blanket in her fists as Yang’s tongue quested along each and every line, around every turn. Blake gave a sharp intake of breath as Yang’s tongue swirled around the still-sensitive nub of her clit, but that wasn’t the main target of her focus. It felt as though Yang was mapping out every piece of her, lapping up the dampness as she went.

She pushed herself up onto her elbows, staring in sheer disbelief at the blonde head between her legs. She knew it wasn’t a mirage-- no mirage could ever make her feel like _this_. But that’s all Blake could think of the sight before her. She had imagined this, of course, but had, whether through guilt or shame, never let herself picture it for long or dared to hope it would come true. Life experience had taught her to never hope or expect.

This mirage-not-mirage was forcing her to see otherwise.

Yang’s eyes flicked up, meeting Blake’s. That look alone drew a moan from deep within Blake and she rolled her head back. She reached a hand into Yang’s hair, knotting her fingers in it. The subtle movements of Yang’s head was something she hadn't thought to imagine, but God, it was _hot_.

She wasn’t _really_ expecting to cum again so soon, but Yang brought her there, tongue buried inside her and fingers dancing across her clit. Blake’s hips bucked as she let out a sound so primal that Yang’s eyes widened in delight. 

“Now _that_ was hot,” she told Blake as she rose, licking her lips. “I had no idea you had that kind of noise in you, Belladonna.”

“Only-- for you--” Blake gasped as her spasming body slowed to a tremble. Yang laid herself beside Blake, just watching as she struggled to sit back up. Those lilac eyes were roaming her body, unabashed. When Blake noticed her stare, she made an embarrassed laugh. “What?” she asked.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” She wrapped her arms around Blake’s body, pulling her close enough to kiss her. Blake could taste herself on Yang’s mouth and was struck by just how erotic this was. She shivered. “I’ve wanted to taste you for… way too long.”

Blake found herself nervous as she crept a hand south. She knew she had no reason to be nervous. Hadn’t Yang just done the same to her, and then some? She had no idea if her worry came from her lack of experience, that ever-constant fear of rejection, or even both.

Yang must have sensed her trepidation. Her lips curled into a smile and placed her own hand on Blake’s shaking one. Wordlessly, she led it down. “Take your time,” she murmured.

Simply touching her made Yang grunt in approval. Blake was amazed at how soaked she was. She hadn’t thought herself capable of eliciting such a strong response from someone. Her fingers swirled around, exploratory, welcomed by the heat of Yang’s body.

She gave Blake just enough direction to guide her movements, her voice low and encouraging. Later, Blake would remember Yang’s patience, how much it reminded her of her patience with the newborn goat. Patience was such a new kindness. Though she wished she could have touched Yang with the same confident lustiness she’d received, something about this gentle instruction was much more intimate.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Yang groaned, pressing her head against Blake’s shoulder. “Fuck, I’m so close. Oh, Blake, _fuck_ …”

She could _feel_ the moment Yang climaxed in the throbbing pulse against her fingers. Blake’s eyes were wide as she held Yang’s shuddering body against her. Sweat was beginning to glitter on her back. Blake withdrew her fingers slowly, staring at Yang as she recovered. It took a moment before she was able to shake her golden hair back at look back at Blake. She gave her a light kiss.

“That was incredible.” Her voice was breathless, husky. Blake smiled. She hesitated, then lifted the hand whose fingers had just been inside Yang. They glistened with her wetness. She was overcome with the need to know how Yang tasted. Testing, she put just the tip of her index finger against her tongue, liked what she found, and then pushed the rest of her finger in. Yang’s eyes were round-- and red-- as she watched.

“Wow,” was all she could say. The next kiss she gave Blake was not a gentle one.

The gray light of a winter dawn was peeking through the window when they finally collapsed under the blanket. They were tangled in each others’ arms, sweaty and sticky and giddy with everything that had just happened.

And absolutely fucking _exhausted_.

Blake had no words left. There was nothing more that she could think of to say, nothing that could possibly add to the experience they had just shared. So she just clung to Yang, the other woman’s bare skin feeling like _home_. The rise and fall of Yang’s breath was steady, but still quick. One of her hands was buried in Blake’s hair, cradling her head against her chest.

“You…” she told Blake at last, “...make me _very_ happy.”

“You too.” Blake’s voice was little more than a croak. She reached over, resting a limp hand on Yang’s breast. “I’m so tired.”

“Same. So much for getting a full night of sleep.” Yang yawned loudly. “But no regrets.”

“Never.”

When Blake awoke, the curtains had been drawn, but strong sunlight still poured in through the cracks. She groaned, sitting up in bed, feeling an odd sense of pleasure at the soft sheets on her nakedness. Unlike waking up from nightmares, Blake knew exactly where she was, and exactly what had happened the night before. She blushed a little, even though nobody was here to see it.

A note on her pillow told her Yang was taking care of the animals. “ _You looked like you could use a little extra sleep!_ ” she had written, followed by a winky face. A goofy grin had spread across Blake’s face. Then, of course, was the heart beside Yang’s name. It was there on every note Yang left for her, and each one felt it had been delivered directly into her heart. Still smiling, Blake lay back, clutching the note against her chest.

She must have dozed off again, for the creaking of the opening door woke her up. She blinked, sleepily looking up at Yang.

“How’re you feeling, baby?” she strode over to the bed to comb a hand through Blake’s messy black hair.

“Not quite awake yet,” she replied, her voice gravelly with sleep. Yang smiled and surprised Blake by bending over to brush her lips over Blake’s exposed nipple before pressing a kiss to her mouth. Blake returned it with tired eagerness.

“Take your time in getting up. Really. We were up late.”

“Or early.” Blake slowly sat up against the headboard. Now that it was morning, being naked around Yang felt new once more. Shyly, she covered herself with the sheet. Yang couldn’t hide a small smile of amusement.

“You’re adorable,” she commented. Blake blushed and rolled her eyes.

“How are the babies doing?” she asked, trying to transition away from the compliment.

“They’re great. Venus passed the placenta, babies are all nursing. Nobody else seems to be in labor. All’s well on the western front.” Yang hopped onto the bed and encircled an arm around Blake. “I’m going to need a nap this afternoon, though. I’m pooped.”

“You don’t say,” Blake remarked dryly. Yang laughed.

“Dad’s excited about the triplets. He and Ruby are going to drive up on Friday night and stay till Sunday. We’ve got a few goats due this weekend, but he wants us to take care of the market.”

“I was wondering how that was going to work.” She curled up against Yang, enjoying how her hand caressed the bare skin of her back. “Will… they have a problem? With us sharing a room?”

“If they do, they’ll get over it.” Yang didn’t sound worried at all. She shrugged her free shoulder. “It would be stupid to kick you onto the couch for two nights to protect their sensitivities. I’m sure they’ll give us plenty of hell for it anyway, though.”

“Great.” Blake heaved a heavy sigh.

“Since they’ll be here, maybe we can have a few hours to hang out in the city, if you want. I need to take you to get a phone, anyway. Dad said we can put you on the family plan.”

“Really?”

“It’ll be safer, too. Y’know… just in case we’re in different places and… someone comes.” Blake winced, but she knew what Yang meant. 

“That’s probably a good idea. But… that’s really nice of your dad to do that for me.”

“Are you kidding? He’s, like, trying to be a surrogate dad to you.”

That had both women laughing. “He’s very kind,” Blake finally said. “He kind of reminds me of my own dad.”

“Do you miss him?”

Blake bit her lip. She’d never talked about her parents in much detail to Yang before. Truthfully, she didn’t know how much she still knew about them. They could have changed a lot during the years she’d been gone.

“I do. He was very… protective. But very kind. Generous. I never should have left.”

“You could get back in touch with them,” Yang suggested gently. Blake shook her head.

“It’s been years. I doubt they’d like the person I’ve become.”

She wished she hadn’t brought this up. Talking about her parents always made her so sad. All she wanted was the happiness that she had felt with Yang the night before. The soft movement of Yang’s hand on her back was comforting. She focused on that.

“Come over here for a minute.” Yang patted her lap. Obediently, Blake slipped her legs over and Yang gathered her up in her arms. She pulled the blanket over and tucked it around Blake. “You were a kid when you left,” she told her. “You were young, impressionable, and caught up in a revolution. It’s like the White Fang kidnapped you, not like you ran away. They used to be in the White Fang, right? They should understand that.”

“Dad was the leader of it, actually.” Despite her sadness, a smile did appear in response to Yang’s shocked expression.

“Oh. Well, shit.”

“It got too extreme for him, though. He never thought violence was the answer.”

“He sounds like a good man.” Yang’s thumb stroked Blake’s upper arm. Blake sighed contentedly and snuggled closer.

“He really was.”

They were silent for a moment. Blake felt so comfortable on Yang’s lap that she felt like she could fall asleep all over again. The love she felt for this woman was overwhelming. One of Yang’s arms had slipped under the blanket to settle on her waist.

“Y’know… what you said about them not liking the person you’ve become?”

“Yeah?”

“I happen to love the person you are. If your parents could see what I see… then you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Blake tried to think of a response and came up dry. She’d done so many awful things with the White Fang, so many things in her own personal life that she wasn’t proud of. She was ashamed of her weakness, as well, that even when she had wanted to leave, she couldn’t. Not until she’d run that last time. 

“What’s on your mind, baby?”

She hadn’t realized her thoughts had carried her away. She blinked, then shook her head. “It’s been so long,” she replied. “I just don’t know how I could even make that time up.”

“You love them, right?”

“Of course.”

“I’d give anything to have Mom back.” Yang’s smile was sad. “Even now, even after all the shit I’ve done over the years, I know she wouldn’t hate me for it. I got through all those bad times, y’know? I came out stronger, better, on the other side. It’s our struggles that really help us grow. They make or break us. We were made, not broken. Everything you’ve been through only solidified the amazing person that you are. And _that_ is what your parents would see.”

Blake wished it was possible to be even closer to Yang than she was, but she was already in her lap, already sheltered in her warmth. Yang did, however, tighten her hold on Blake, who wriggled against her. The blanket around her slipped slightly, slipping off her collarbone and sliding lower down her chest.

“Do you want me to lay down with you for a little bit?” Yang asked, tugging the blanket back up around Blake’s shoulder. She nodded.

Yang gently moved Blake off her lap, easing her back onto the mattress and fixing the blanket over her. Blake was gratified to see that Yang was pulling her own clothes off, not with the hurry of anticipation, but an undress that would bring their skins together in simple connection. Once under the covers, she pulled Blake against her, wrapping her arms around her waist in a seamless motion. Blake closed her eyes and rested her head against her. She felt Yang press a kiss into the crown of her head, her lips lingering against her hair.

“Last night was… incredible,” Blake told her, shaking her head in disbelief any of it had happened at all. Yang chuckled, and the vibrations from that sound rode into Blake’s own body.

“It was,” she agreed. “I’m a lucky woman.”

Blake wanted to argue-- she very nearly did. She didn’t see herself as lucky for anyone. She could have listed out her faults in bullet form, in alphabetical order. But what would it accomplish? They meant nothing to Yang. This crazy, beautiful, kind woman loved Blake. She _knew_ Blake. She knew those faults already, and she didn’t give a shit.

Rather, she did, but only in terms of how it affected Blake herself.

So Blake sighed and pressed her body against Yang’s, trying to draw in that intoxicating heat. This heat reminded Blake of when she was little, and she would press her feet against the heater vents on cold nights. It had always been a wonderful, comforting feeling. Only this was better.

“No,” she finally said. “I think _I’m_ the lucky one.”


	9. Chapter 9

Blake stared at Yang in disbelief. It was seven in the morning, the volume in the truck was cranked loud enough to hurt her ears, and Yang was rapping.

In the short time that she’d known Yang, she thought she’d figured out the basic stuff, such as favorite foods and music. But at some point, Yang must have listened to this song enough that she could rap along to the same rhythm as the man on the track. She was even making wide gestures, so often that Blake was a bit concerned that the truck and trailer would swerve right off the road. If she hadn’t been awake before, she certainly was now.

“Where the hell did you learn _that_?” Blake demanded when another track came on.

“I work in mysterious ways, Belladonna.” Yang smirked. 

“I haven’t even heard you _listening_ to stuff like that before, and now you’re just pulling it out of your ass?”

“Language!”

“Weren’t you just rapping much worse?” She wanted to laugh, but didn’t want to give Yang the pleasure.

“It doesn’t count when it’s in a song.”

“It totally does.”

Blake bit her lip to try and keep a smile from spreading, but it was too little too late. Yang snorted. “You know I’m right. Deal with it.”

“Well, my mind is blown, that’s for sure.”

It wasn’t hard to say why they were in such a good mood. Taiyang and Ruby had come home the night before, and for the first time, the house felt truly alive with activity. Ruby had dragged out a board game while Taiyang made dinner for everyone. Yang was a good cook, but her dad turned cooking into an art form. 

She had expected the three of them being together, as a complete family unit, would result in her isolation, but it was worry over nothing. Banter over the board game was so easy, the conversation so inclusive, the teasing so natural. It had been years since Blake had been able to enjoy being a part of family life. There was a burning hole in her heart when she realized that she had missed it terribly.

Mornings at the market had become routine. Conversations with customers were easier now, and she could talk about farm life as if she knew what she was talking about. She had never figured out the person who had taken their picture a couple weeks ago, and maybe they never came back, but it didn’t stop her from interacting with the Faunus. There was the occasional comment about the progressiveness of a human-Faunus relationship, and they were always met with a blush. Her relationship with Yang had nothing to do with race, but trying to explain that to strangers was a daunting task she seldom performed.

“I think it’s gonna rain later,” Yang told her, shading her eyes and pointing at the sky. “Those are thunderheads.”

“ _And_ the forecast said it was supposed to storm,” Blake added with a small smile. Yang stuck her tongue out at her. 

“Kids these days… relying on their fancy-pancy weather apps…”

“You’re the one with the phone, not me.”

Yang waved a dismissive hand. “Details, details.”

Lunch, Yang decided, would be at a little noodle joint she used to work at when she was in college. Blake was curious to glimpse this part of Yang’s past, but at first, it was underwhelming. She was expecting more from the college-y part of Vale, but to be fair, cheap and greasy did appeal to the college crowd. The restaurant was about the size of an office cubicle and a bit dingy-looking, but the owner recognized Yang right away with a big smile. 

“You shoulda told me you were comin’, ya little shit!” the man said, giving Yang a light punch to the arm. “I would’ve gotten your usual made up.”

“It doesn’t even take you ten minutes to make it. I’m sure I’ll live!”

Blake’s smile faded. Through the window into the kitchen, someone was staring, eyes glued to Yang. Trying to be discreet, she nudged Yang with her elbow.

“Who’s that?” she asked, not looking directly at the tall man. She saw Yang’s eyes flicker in that direction and a shadow crossed over her face.

“Fuck.” She bit her lip, then told the owner, “We’re in a bit of a hurry… we’ll need our order to-go.”

“Aw, but I haven’t seen you in ages!” 

“And I’ll visit again soon.” She lowered her voice. “Is Junior seriously still working here?”

The man shrugged, not meeting Yang’s eyes. “Vernal kinda twisted my arm into having him here.”

Yang looked directly up at the man in the window. “What the fuck are you staring at me for, Junior?” Her voice was acid.

“I was wondering if you’d show up here again.” He walked, slowly, around the corner and into the dining area.

“Why’s that?”

Blake had backed up a little behind Yang. Her heart was starting to pound. Something in his manner reminded her of Adam. Yang, sensing her panic, grabbed her by the hand. “It’s all right,” she told Blake softly. “I can kick his ass. I can and I did, actually.”

“Don’t remind me.” The look on Junior’s face never changed, but those eyes never left Yang. “Vernal put me here, hoping you’d show up.”

“No. I’ve told you before, I want nothing to do with that anymore.”

Blake noticed with a bit of alarm that the owner of the restaurant had vanished to the kitchen. She had a bad feeling about this.

“No, we know you don’t do jobs for us anymore. She just wants to talk to you.”

“And _I_ said no.”

Yang was squeezing Blake’s hand so hard that for a moment, she wondered if it would cut off circulation. But she held tight. If nothing else, they had each other right in this moment.

“You know Raven could’ve called a hit on you, right?” Junior’s voice was lower than ever. “But she forbade it. For some reason, she doesn’t want you dead. She just wants Vernal to talk to you.”

Blake could practically see the gears moving in Yang’s brain. “...so Vernal has a message from Raven?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he handed Yang a scrap of paper. “This is where Vernal is doing business for the time being. Since you got the offices raided, she’s been moving everyone around a lot more.”

Yang grimaced. “Tell her not to hold her breath. I’m not going.”

“Suit yourself, blondie.”

Even after Junior retreated back to the kitchen, Blake couldn’t relax. Yang managed to loosen up a bit, but Blake refused to let go of her hand until they’d gotten their food and were back in the truck. Yang was frowning in thoughtful silence.

“What was that about?” Blake finally asked.

“I have no fucking idea.” She turned to Blake. “Are _you_ okay?”

Blake nodded shakily, knowing she didn’t have any right to feel scared. This was a part of Yang’s story, not her own. There was no reason she should be sweating this much, no reason for her heart to be racing, no reason for the nausea she felt. No reason for Yang to be looking at her with so much concern.

“Are you sure? You’re kinda pale.”

“Yeah. I’m-- I’m fine.”

Yang leaned over to give her a light kiss. “We’re both safe. It’s all right.” She closed her eyes, thinking for a moment, and then smiled. “I know where we can go.”

The sky was a little grayer when they drove up to a park about ten minutes from the noodle place. It was a different one than the farmers’ market park, and seemed to cater more to children than to adults. A huge, colorful playground was empty in anticipation of the freezing rain that would be falling later that day. A large pirate ship in primary colors dominated the other playscapes. It was cold, but they were both bundled up, and Yang’s internal furnace would keep them comfortable enough if they got out of the wind.

Yang pointed at the pirate ship. “Ruby and I used to play here all the time when we still lived in Vale. Mom would take us here. We had so much fun, pretending to be pirates.” She smiled as she reminisced. “Sometimes, Mom would even join us. It was nice to have a mom that wanted to play with us.”

Blake placed a hand on Yang’s back. “I know you miss her.”

Yang laid her head on Blake’s shoulder for a moment and all was quiet, save for the sounds of the city and the wind in the bare trees. She wrapped her arm around Yang’s middle, seeing now the effect of the encounter at the restaurant. It didn’t affect Yang with fear or anger. Only sadness, for the mother lost to her and for the mother who didn’t want her. Blake couldn’t imagine that, and now that second mother was reaching for contact once more. Yang had to be struggling.

“There’s a little nook inside the pirate ship. It’s out of the wind, and we can eat there.”

It was a tight squeeze, but it was cozy. The noodles were warm, but it was being close to Yang that kept her from feeling too cold. They talked little during their meal. Blake, at least, was still trying to process what had happened in the restaurant and her own reaction to it. She wanted to kick herself for being so self-absorbed about the whole thing. 

“So, uh… how are you feeling? About… that?”

Definitely not as smooth as she wanted. Yang blinked a little, as if trying to remember what Blake was referring to, then shook her head.

“It was weird. I don’t--” Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and her face brightened. She showed Blake the picture Ruby had texted her. “Twins for Pam.”

“Oh, wow!” She peered closer. “They look nothing like her.”

“The sire has such a dominant coat pattern. We’re going to end up with a bunch of his clones running around the farm.” Seeing Yang’s relaxed smile put Blake at ease a little, even though it faded too soon. “I don’t know what to do. Or think. It’s kind of creepy that Raven knew where I might show up, and for Vernal to plant someone there on the off chance I’d be visit.” She paused, then added in an almost-whisper, “Raven _never_ made that kind of effort for me before.”

Blake wrapped an arm around Yang’s waist. “So what do you want to do? What’s your gut telling you?”

Yang said nothing, only stabbed at her noodles with her chopsticks. So Blake waited, noting how unnecessarily hard she attacked those noodles. It meant she was thinking.

“I’m… curious,” she admitted. “Because Junior was right. I didn’t really think about it at the time, but Raven could have easily called a hit on me. She would have on anyone else who betrayed her, but she didn’t with me. She knows I’m useless as a criminal. So what else does she think she can get from me? She’s already sentenced.”

She was treading the line with danger, and she knew it, but she asked her next question anyway. “Do you… want to meet Vernal after all?”

Yang groaned and sank back against the plastic wall of the pirate ship. “Not really. I have no desire to look at that stupid face again.” She slammed down the box of noodles. “But if she has a message from Raven… Shit. Blake, I don’t want to drag you into this, too.”

“You’re not dragging me anywhere.” She offered Yang a small smile that in no way reflected how she really felt. “I’d go wherever you go. Willingly. You’ve put your life on the line for me. I owe you the same.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Yang scowled at the adjacent wall.

“Maybe. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there for you.” This, at least, was true. They were a unit now. Hadn’t Yang said that often enough? Blake could admit fear about the situation, but it wasn’t going to control her. Not this time. She would see this out with Yang, no matter what she chose to do, no matter how scared she was.

“It could be dangerous,” Yang said softly.

“I was in the White Fang, remember?” Blake forced a smile. “I know a thing or two about danger.”

Even after they finished eating, they lingered in the pirate ship. Yang seemed to find comfort in it and Blake didn’t want to rush that. So they stayed, holding each other, not speaking of what the rest of the day might bring.

Before confronting Vernal, they needed to get Blake a phone. She had left her old one with Adam, knowing he would be able to track it. This new one, Yang assured her, would be private. Adam wouldn’t be there to enable the GPS, or read her texts, or browse her search history. The only people who would have this number would be herself, Taiyang, and Ruby.

Privacy. Who knew such a thing could really exist?

To break in the phone, Yang had insisted on a selfie of the two of them, which Blake promptly made into her wallpaper. Even the ability to control such a simple thing was so new. Freedom, she found, was in even the smallest of places.

But pulling up to a sketchy-looking gas station made it clear that something was always waiting to drag you back down.

Blake didn’t like the look of it. It was in disrepair and looked completely abandoned. She was beginning to doubt anyone was in there at all, but Yang pointed at a spray-painted symbol on the door, camouflaged amongst layers of graffiti.

“That’s Raven’s sign.”

Blake put a hand to the small knife she’d started carrying with her. It wouldn’t do much good if they were attacked, but it was better than nothing. Yang’s arms hung loosely at her sides, and Blake was unnerved to see absolutely no expression on her face but resignation.

She didn’t bother knocking on the boarded-up door. Yang simply grabbed the handle and pulled. Blake certainly didn’t expect it to swing open so smoothly. 

“I came, Vernal. What do you want?”

It was dark inside, but Blake’s eyes soon adjusted. There _was_ light, but it was dim. She heard footsteps. 

“I’m surprised you actually came.” The voice was low. Sultry. Suddenly, there was a bright light, in the form of an electric lantern. Blake blinked, trying to re-adjust her vision to it.

“So am I, actually.” Yang’s eyes fluttered as they got used to the light, as well. Standing before them was a short woman, holding a manila folder under one arm and the lantern before her.. Dark hair, tanned skin, tattoos on each bare arm. She was beautiful-- and looked venomous. “Are these your new digs?”

“We change it up a lot.” Vernal gave a careless shrug. “It’s a little different than what we’re used to, thanks to you.”

“What can I say? I’m good at fucking things up, aren’t I?”

Vernal looked Blake up and down slowly, almost lecherously. It was uncomfortable, but Blake didn’t move. “So this is the girlfriend. I hope she’s worth it, because she’s the reason you’ve got a target on your back.”

Goosebumps pricked her all over, but Yang was nonplussed.

“Is that what Raven wanted to tell me? I’ve figured that out already.”

“She’s got her ears open, even in prison,” Vernal acknowledged with a small bob of her head. “She usually doesn’t give a shit about what the Faunus are talking about, but when she heard your name, she got… curious.”

“How would they know?” Yang, for the first time, looked surprised. Vernal chuckled.

“Adam Taurus might not be the head of the White Fang, but he’s pretty powerful. He’s been pestering Sienna for men, for weapons. It's all Faunus inmates are talking about. At least, for the ones associated with the White Fang. He’s got a personal grudge against a girl named Yang Xiao Long.” She saw Yang’s muscles tense. She wanted to grab Yang’s hand, to tell her that they were in this together, but didn’t want to make Yang look weak in front of this woman. “Don’t worry. Sienna isn’t going to ruin the, ah, _pristine_ name of the White Fang over his anger issues. But he does have friends willing to work for him even without Sienna’s approval.”

“Again, this is shit I’ve already figured out.” How could Yang sound so calm? Vernal was laying it all out, more clearly, more concisely, than they had discussed, but Yang wasn’t showing any fear. Vernal was shaking her head, amused.

“I see you still lack self-preservation. Raven knew you would. She saw how you fell apart after you got arrested. If she had put a hit out on you then, you would have stood no chance. Still, at the time... it looked like you’d put a hit out on yourself.” Vernal sounded… satisfied? “I saw you for myself one night, you know. You were a fucking trainwreck.”

Finally, she’d struck a nerve. Yang looked as if she’d been slapped.

“So why didn’t she?” she finally asked. “Put a hit out on me, I mean.”

“Who knows?” Vernal rolled her shoulders lazily. “You were shit at the family business, but you must’ve made some impression. Believe it or not, Raven doesn’t really want you to die. But here you are, jumping into the line of fire for this… girl.” The wink she gave Blake made her feel dirty. She looked at the floor, shame-faced. “She’s probably told you a bit about this Taurus guy. But in case she didn’t… I have some pictures of what he’s capable of.”

Blake stared as Vernal handed the manila folder to Yang. They looked questioningly at each other as she pulled out a few photos. Color drained from Yang’s face, and when Blake looked over at them, she saw why.

She had no idea who these men were. She had no idea if this even was really Adam’s work. If it was…

“Adam tends to wear a mask in public. Is that correct, Belladonna?” Vernal’s voice almost sounded like a purr. “You’ve probably seen why. But these men… are the people who did that to him. Or, they _were_ , anyway.”

Yang dropped the folder and the photos. She stared at Blake in horror.

“When he feels threatened… or if he feels there’s been wrong done to him… he gets a little bit sadistic, as you can see.” Blake could tell Vernal was drinking in their reactions, savoring them. “Both of you are going to die. And it’s not going to be pretty.” Her eyes were on Yang again. “You’ll probably die first, Yang. In front of Blake. Painfully.” She turned to Blake. “But _you’re_ the one he wants to suffer the most.”

She crashed to the ground. It wasn’t a faint, but more of a collapse. Her hands dug into the gritty tile as she shook her head. The past was swallowing her up again. Everything she’d done since she had escaped meant nothing. She knew Vernal was right.

“Easy, Blake,” Yang murmured. She was on the floor with her, pulling Blake against her. Her arms were warm but her voice turned icy. “So what do you want, Vernal? Did Raven send you here to scare us?”

“I already told you. Raven doesn’t really want you dead, or she would have done it herself.” Vernal didn’t sound troubled by the reaction she’d gotten from Blake. “She’s not exactly sending in her own people to help you… but she does want you to stand up for yourself. Wait here a moment.”

As Vernal walked around the counter, Yang hugged Blake close and pushed a strand of dark hair away from her face. “Are you still here, Blake?” she asked in a hushed voice. “Talk to me, baby.”

“I’m… here,” she answered. Her words sounded like they were trailing out of a fog. “Did… did you see the photo…”

“It’s all right, baby.” Yang’s voice was nearly a croon. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Living nightmares again.

“How touching,” Vernal remarked. She was back, holding a long, polished wooden box. “Everything I’ve told you till now… consider it a gift from me. _This_ is the message from Raven.”

There was a slip of paper atop the box. She handed the paper and box down to Yang. Keeping one arm around Blake, she set the box on the floor and picked up the note. She frowned at the message.

“I don’t… understand.”

Vernal said nothing, merely nodding at the unopened box. There was no clasp, so Yang pulled the top up and made a hiss.

“I don’t want this.”

“If you’re going to kill him, what are you going to do it with? A gun? A hunting knife? Taurus is stealthy. He got a hold of those men in the picture by sneaking around when they didn’t suspect him. When he comes, you’re going to have one chance. You don’t want to fuck _this_ job up, sweetheart.”

The first thing that came to Blake’s mind was _pig sticker_. These two blades were much too long to be simple pocket knives, but much too short to be swords. They were slender. Sharp. The red metal looked as though it had been bathed in the blood of people who they’d destroyed. They weren’t knives. They were killers.

“Raven wanted you to use them. She’s killed with them before. Executed people who needed executing. And for the people she didn’t kill… it made them think twice before crossing her a second time.” Vernal gave Yang a long, hard look. “I honestly don’t know why she’s letting you use them. She knows you’re useless. She knows you betrayed her. And yet…” She made a grand gesture with her hand toward the blades. “Family ties must run deep, _Xiao Long_.”

Blake’s concentration on the conversation wavered. Her eyes flicked once more to the photos on the ground. Those men suffered dearly. And _Adam_ did that?

“And _that_ ,” Vernal finished, “is Raven’s message.”

In her fugue, Blake was unaware of how the conversation ended, or how she got off the floor, or made her way to the truck. Yang was still holding her in one arm, gripping the wooden box in the other. “Let’s get you home,” she was telling Blake, but the words got lost in the maelstrom of her hundreds of thoughts.

Thunder boomed overhead. Yang had to help Blake with the seatbelt. Mentally, she was gone. She was looking around, but could not see. She smelled the rain, heard the raindrops. But she was gone.

Thought returned to her slowly. Yang was talking, but the words flew over her head. All she could see was those pictures, all she could hear were Vernal’s words. She was right. Adam was going to kill them both. She would watch Yang die. Adam would make sure they both suffered.

“Will you be okay while I get some coffee?” Yang’s concern was written all over her face. With a jolt, Blake realized they had stopped at a convenience store somewhere between Vale and the farm. Was it possibly the same one where she had first broken down to Yang? Blake nodded, her head feeling heavy. There was a hug, a gentle kiss, and Yang was headed toward the storefront.

This was the time to go.

She fumbled with her seatbelt and the door lock. She stumbled out onto the pavement, shivering at the rain that assaulted her. She reached back into the truck, feeling around blindly for her jacket, but had no idea where it was. Where had she put it? She groaned. So she gave up and slammed the door. Realizing her phone was in her pocket, she opened the door once more and flung it onto the seat. It wouldn’t be right to keep it, she thought distantly. It wasn’t hers.

She staggered onto the dead grass, toward the tree line. There was the vaguest recollection, from maybe a hundred years ago, of Yang telling her she’d get hypothermia before she got within sight of Vale, but she dismissed it. Dying of hypothermia would be easier than sticking around to watch Yang die. If she left now, Yang might stand a chance.

There was a cramping in her gut as what she was doing hit her. Running away. Again. From the only person she loved. As she got to the trees, a huge, painful sob wracked her body. She was only a few feet into the woods when her legs gave out from some inexplicable weakness she felt. Even then, she tried to crawl. This was her sacrifice. She would pay whatever the price was to keep Yang safe.

But, God, why did it hurt so much?

“No no no no no,” she heard. Yang. A jacket was flung over her shoulders and strong arms pulled her in. She couldn’t move. She was shuddering with sobs.

“I have to go!” she wailed.

Yang didn’t say anything, only held tighter to as Blake tried to fight away. She tried, desperately, to pull herself out of Yang’s arms, to _run_ , to _save_ her, but her strength was failing. She crumpled.

She could only sob as Yang lifted her up, as smoothly as she could manage, and brought her back to the warmth of the truck. Blake had been unaware of how loudly she was sobbing until she was inside, where the sound of the rain and wind was muted.

“He’s going to kill you, he’s going to _kill you_ ,” she kept saying between her sobs. Those photos had been branded into her mind, as deeply as the brand Adam himself bore. All she could see in those photos was Yang.

She was in Yang’s lap, being rocked. The motion was calming, and the sobs began to lessen in intensity and volume. Her babble ceased, as well.

“Blake, there’s a motel right down the road. I’m going to get us a room, and we’re going to stay there tonight.”

“I… I can’t…”

“No. Baby, I know you’re scared. I _know_ you’re scared. But we’re going to stay there tonight and in the morning, we’re going to talk. We’ll talk about _all_ of this. But right now, give me one more night. That’s all I need from you right now, is one more night.”

Yang was wiping Blake’s face, with some piece of clothing that was still dry, free of both rain and tears. Blake’s face felt swollen, and she knew there were still tears running. Without realizing, she was nodding. 

Yang kept her close during the short drive, holding Blake against her side on the bench seat while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. Blake shook, more with cold than anything else. Before going into the main office, Yang repeated her request of one more night, as if she didn’t believe Blake would stay in the truck. But Blake was exhausted. She couldn’t have run even if she tried. 

Still, Yang darted back out of the office rather quickly, eyes going to straight to where Blake was. She could see her shoulders sag in relief that she hadn’t run again. 

The minute they walked through the door, Yang stripped Blake of her wet clothes and pulled her into the bathroom. She put her under the hot shower, where Blake stood, numb. Her brain had given up, and letting Yang guide her through the motions was easier than existing on her own. 

Yang cocooned her in thick blanket before easing her into bed. “I’m so sorry,” Blake finally whispered. Yang shook her head. 

“Fucking Vernal. She’s a fucking bitch. I never should have gone.” 

“The pictures…” 

“Were of people who had no idea what was happening. We’re already a step ahead of them just by _knowing_ he’s coming, babe.” Angrily, she stood to start hanging clothing wherever there was free space. The hangers in the closet, the desk, a lamp. “Fuck Vernal.” 

Blake could see the red irises of Yang’s eyes, but saw something else. They were bloodshot. Had Yang been crying, too? 

Yang climbed into bed beside her. For an insane moment, Blake was afraid. She was realizing now how rashly she had acted, and realized that when Yang had come for her in the rain, the expression she wore had been pure panic. She had never seen that on Yang’s face before, but it had been there… for her. Her mind made a jump: Yang was going to be mad at her for doing that. She wouldn’t even want to touch Blake now. 

Again, Yang defied that train of thought by unwrapping Blake just enough to slip her arms around her and pull her close, as close as she'd ever been. She kissed Blake, over and over. Lips, cheek, eyelids, forehead, nose, neck, collarbone, shoulder. Blake shuddered one last time, then fell limp, realizing she _needed_ this touch. Her hands clutched Yang's skin. 

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered again. “I just… don't want you to get hurt. I can't bear the thought of losing you.” 

“Then stay,” Yang replied, her voice not quite a plea, but not a demand. “We knew the risks, and we accepted it. Nothing Vernal said or showed us is going to change that. Not for me. Because even if he kills us tomorrow… at least we'll be together, right to the end. Not having you close to me would hurt far worse than anything he might throw at me. _That's_ the only scenario he would really win.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “If you _really_ want to leave… I won't stop you. If that's what you _want_. I'm not Adam. But thinking about that _hurts_. Thinking about that makes my heart fucking _hurt_.” 

She'd been wrong. If she'd been in a clearer state of mind, maybe Blake could have seen that what she'd done was neither practical nor right. Hearing the crack in Yang's voice was more painful than anything Adam could ever do. 

So she kissed her, pressing her lips tenderly to Yang's. 

“I don't want to run,” she admitted, her voice dry, “but, God… I'm _so_ scared of what he'll do to you “ 

“Baby,” Yang said softly, stroking Blake's hair, “I'm not going go give him the chance.” 

It was probably bravado, but Blake wasn't going to fight it. Not today. She was too tired. “I love you. So much.” The last tears her body had leaked out of the corners of her eyes. Yang wiped them away. 

“And I love you more than you could ever know.” She paused, then murmured, almost to herself, “How could I live in a world without you?” 

Yang tucked Blake's head against her shoulder. Sleep was far from coming, but to lay here right now, like this, was enough. 


	10. Chapter 10

As if she was afraid Blake might disappear, Yang held tightly to her all night. Even in sleep, their limbs were enmeshed in each other. Not that Blake was able to get much sleep, but Yang managed nod off for a little while. 

She looked so sweet. Despite everything they had been through that day, Yang still looked so peaceful as she slept. Blake watched her through the night. She was afraid to close her own eyes, but seeing the peace on Yang's face put her a little at ease. 

It didn't stop the painful shame that boiled in her stomach. How could she have been so foolish? All she had succeeded in doing was hurting Yang, when that was really the last thing she wanted to do. How could Yang still want to be with her after that?

She grit her teeth as tears came, unbidden, to her eyes once more.

Blake _wished_ she could join Yang in the wonderful oblivion of sleep. Being free of these heavy thoughts, even for a few hours, would have been a godsend. But every time she tried, all she saw was blood, curdled on the ground. Those stiff, eyeless bodies. She knew none of them had been Yang-- Yang was still here-- but in her dreams, she knew they would be. 

“Did you have a nightmare, babe?”

Blake had thought she wasn't trembling that hard, but now Yang was awake, blinking at her groggily. Her arm only tightened around Blake's waist. She gulped and shook her head, hoping Yang would be too sleep-muddled to see her tears.

But Yang was never muddled. Never when it came to her.

“What's wrong?” Unable to speak, Blake only buried her head in Yang's chest. Yang didn't need words; Blake's reaction was all she needed. She felt Yang's fingers in her hair, on her scalp, massaging them in with the gentlest pressure. They slowly moved, working around the base of her cat ears, smoothing the delicate fur there. Blake shuddered, then sighed, relaxing just enough.

Sensing the surrender, Yang kissed her forehead and somehow, miraculously, Blake slipped into sleep.

As she expected, sleep wasn't peaceful. Yang had held on when she began to thrash and when she awoke in panic. Her body moved on instinct, trying to fight away, to get up, but Yang's grip was firm. By the time Blake had realized where she was, she could also see it was almost morning.

“I'm gonna be sick.”

This time, Yang did let her go as Blake raced to bathroom, gagging. She followed behind silently to drape a blanket over Blake's shoulders while she hunched over the toilet. 

Nothing came up, but Blake's body still heaved violently. Yang stayed with her, pulling her hair back from her face and rubbing her back.

“What's... happening to me?” Blake managed to gasp out before retching again.

“Your body is freaking out. Maybe it's a panic attack?”

“But why? It was... only a dream!”

“Yesterday was really, really stressful, and then your body went into fight-or-flight… If anything could make someone anxious, that would be it.” Blake spat out a gob of saliva, then pushed herself back against the wall. The danger had passed, but she still felt sick to her stomach. “How are you feeling now, baby?”

“Like shit.”

Yang nodded in sympathy and stood up to dampen a washcloth. Self-consciously, Blake ran the back of her hand over her forehead to get rid of some of the sweat. Yang returned, wet cloth in hand, to finish the job. The cold on her hot skin was so soothing.

“I'm sorry. That was… weird. And stupid.” Blake couldn't meet Yang's eyes, even though their faces were so close.

“It's not stupid.” She ran the cloth down Blake's neck. “I… used to get panic attacks, too. After I got arrested.”

“Really?” 

Yang set the cloth down and pulled the blanket around the two of them. “Not quite like this. It was, like… I couldn't get enough air in my lungs, y'know? It really felt like I was going to die sometimes. It was like I was suffocating.”

“What did you do?”

Yang's smile looked forced. “I tried distracting myself. Not in very good ways, either.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” She leaned against Blake and wrapped an arm around her waist. Blake was all too aware of how clammy her skin must feel, but Yang said nothing about it. “I'm just trying to say… that it's okay. I'm here for you, and maybe I can help.”

Blake lay her head in the crook of her neck. “Thank you,” she said in a small voice. Yang squeezed her hand.

“If it makes you feel any better… Raven thinks we’ve got a shot.”

“What?” Blake had to move her head around to at Yang. “What makes you say that?”

“Her message. I didn’t get it at first… but I thought about it, and I think I do now.” Yang slowly got up. “Let’s go back to bed. Her note is still in my pants.”

She reached down and pulled Blake to her feet. For once, her fear took a back seat to curiosity. From what Yang had told her before, Raven had a low opinion of her daughter and didn’t seem like the encouraging type, anyway. If Yang was right, this could cast Raven in a different light entirely.

As Blake climbed back into bed, Yang had found her pants hanging from the desk. She dug through the pockets, frowning as she pulled out crumpled wrappers and spare change. Blake lay her head back against the pillow, wishing for sleep, while she listened to Yang’s grumbling. “I hope I didn’t leave it in my jacket… Oh! Here it is!”

She had almost a pep in her step when she came back to bed, bouncing onto it with an enthusiasm that surprised Blake. She handed her a slip of paper that could have easily been mistaken for scrap. It was crinkled from the rain, and some of the ink had bled through, but the handwriting was still legible. It struck her how similar it was to Yang’s; if Raven’s handwriting had been looser, with less flourish, they might have been identical.

_This is not a fairy tale. Dragons are never slain._

“Um… I don’t understand. It doesn’t look very positive to me…”

Yang took a deep breath. There was something beautiful hiding behind her eyes. Hope. She wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, seeing it there made Blake’s heart break a little.

“ _Xiao Long_ ,” Yang breathed. “She… made a comment about my last name when we first met. My last name… it means ‘little dragon.’ When we met… she said something about not seeing any kind of dragon in me. But this…”

“ _Shit_.” Blake looked at the note again with new eyes.

“If she thinks I can do this… maybe that’s why she gave me her knives. Maybe it’s her way of… helping?” Blake was surprised to see that Yang’s eyes were starting to brim. “I know she doesn’t love me. I know she never considered me a daughter. But maybe… maybe a part of her does care for me after all.” She laughed suddenly. It sounded nervous, jittery.

“Oh, Yang,” Blake murmured, reaching an arm around her.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be all emotional about this. I think I’m just tired.” She wiped at an eye with the base of her hand. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” She pulled Yang down to lay beside her. “If I’m allowed to almost throw up around you, you’re allowed to be a little bit emotional.”

Yang’s laugh sounded more natural this time. “Fair enough.”

They stayed in bed for a couple more hours. Yang was able to nap for a while, but Blake didn’t want to risk falling asleep again. Instead, she lost herself in thought. Raven, her note, her knives. Yang had explained how special those blades were to her mother. Absolutely nobody was allowed to handle them, but for some reason, she had instructed them to be lent to her supposed traitor of a daughter. Through all the years of absence, there still seemed to be some shred of maternal instinct in Raven.

That was what clinched her decision. If Raven could still find it in her heart to care for her daughter… why couldn’t her own parents?

Blake rose carefully, so as not to wake Yang. She walked over to find her various clothes strewn about the place. They were stiff, and would probably smell a little of mildew, but they were dry. Yang had brought her phone in to charge, so in between pulling clothes on, she searched the internet.

It wasn’t hard to find the number for her dad’s office. He had gotten involved in the local government in Menagerie after leaving the White Fang, and it seemed like he was now the Chief of Kuo Kuana. How had that happened without her knowing? She stared at his picture. It was the first time she had seen his face since she’d left Adam. He looked… older.

“What’re you doing, baby?” Yang looked up and rubbed at her eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She forced herself to look up at Yang. “I think… I want to call my parents.”

“Whoa, really?” She sat up straight in bed. “Now?”

“It's evening over there. They’re not going to answer,” Blake assured her. “Besides, it’s a Sunday, and I’m calling the office. But… I’m going to leave a message.”

“Shit!” Yang pulled the blanket over herself before climbing out of bed. She pulled a chair over to sit beside Blake at the desk. “That’s awesome!”

“Then why am I so nervous?” Blake asked softly. She looked at the phone in her hand, at her father’s picture, as if it were a ticking bomb.

“It’s okay to be nervous. It’s been years.” She placed a calming hand on Blake’s thigh. “But I think it’s a great idea. And I’ll be right here for you. Unless you want some privacy, in which case--”

“No. Please, stay.” Blake’s stomach fluttered as she pressed the office number. Her thumb hesitated above the dial button.

“I’ll stay.” Yang gave her thigh a squeeze. “You know I love you, right?”

That made Blake smile. “I love you, too.”

Before she could change her mind, she hit the green dial button. Her stomach flopped as she listened to the phone ring once, twice, three times. “ _Hello. You have reached the office of Ghira Belladonna. I’m unable to take your call, but if you leave--_ ”

Panic hit. She gasped, and hung up before she could leave her message. She stared at the phone. Listening to that message was like listening to a ghost.

“Blake?”

“Sorry.” She shook her head. “I just… got a little nervous. I haven’t heard Dad’s voice in so long.”

“It’s okay, baby.” Yang rubbed her leg. “Even if you change your mind… I’ll still be here.”

“No. I need to call.” She took a deep breath in. “I… want to have parents again. I think… I think I need them.”

Blake dialed again. This time, she got through the whole message. “Hi… It’s me. Blake. I just… I wanted to…” She took another deep breath, took support from the pressure of Yang’s hand, then went on. “I… just wanted to call. I… I miss you. And Mom. If you want… you can call me back.” She paused, then added a very small, “I love you.”

She hung up, shaking. Yang took her in her arms. “You did great.”

“I don’t know. I…” Her amber eyes went wide. “I forgot to leave my number.”

“He should have caller ID, right?” Yang asked. She had the nerve to look almost amused.

“How should I know?”

“You could always call back,” Yang pointed out. _Now_ she was smiling. Blake bit her lip, then realized she was starting to smile, too.

“God, that was stupid,” she muttered.

Her phone rang.

Blake’s eyes were round as she stared at her phone, smile gone. Yang, too, sobered up immediately. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be in the office?” She had no idea why Yang was whispering. 

“Should I let it go to voicemail?” Blake asked in a whisper of her own. They both looked down the phone. Sure enough, the number was the one she had just called. If she had thought her stomach was flipping before, it was absolutely dancing now.

“I don’t know!”

It was now or never. Blake gritted her teeth and answered the phone. She didn’t even have time to say hello.

“ _Blake?! Is this really you?!_ ”

She blew out an exhale. It was him. “Hi, Dad.”

“ _Blake._ ”

Both ends of the phone fell silent. Blake had no idea what to say now. She hadn’t rehearsed this far. She hadn’t really expected him to hear to her message so damn quickly.

“ _Are you still there?_ ”

“Yes.” She held the phone tight against her ear. “I just… God, Dad, I just…”

“ _It’s okay. Are you all right?_ ”

Hearing his voice, actually _talking to him_ , was too much. She burst into tears. Yang’s arms were around her now, rubbing her in a silent attempt at comfort.

“ _Blake?!_ ”

“I’m okay!” she finally gasped out. 

“ _Where are you? Are you still with the White Fang?_ ”

“No. I… I’m living outside of Vale right now.” She hesitated, then added, “I’m working on a farm. Can you believe it?”

“ _A farm?_ ”

And now she was laughing, laughing at the absurdity of what she was telling him. The last Ghira knew of her, she had run away to join a terrorist organization. Now she was telling him that she was working on a farm, and nothing could sound stranger. She knew she must have sounded hysterical, but she couldn’t stop.

“A farm! And I have a girlfriend now. I… I was with Adam for so long, but I left him, and now I think he wants to kill me, but…”

“ _Blake, sweetheart, are you okay? What’s this about Adam?_ ”

Words spewed out of her, uncontrolled. How Adam had been abusive, how she had run, how she ended up at the farm, how she met Yang…

“God, Dad, I’m so sorry, I wish I could have called you sooner, but Adam…”

“ _Oh, Blake. Oh, sweetheart, no, it’s not your fault. Can we see you? Do you want to come home?_ ”

“But it _is_ my fault!” Her voice was hoarse from talking. “If I hadn’t left…”

“ _Blake._ ” His deep, rough voice softened. “ _I’m not blaming you. We’ve worried about you, so much, but we’ve_ never _blamed you._ ”

She looked desperately at Yang, but she wasn’t able to hear Ghira’s part of the conversation. All she could do was hold onto Blake’s thigh and rub her back. 

“ _Can we see you?_ ”

She tried to mouth the question to Yang, who only cocked her head in confusion. So Blake covered the mouthpiece. “He’s asking to see me.”

“It’s okay with me! If they fly to Vale, we could pick them up!”

“I don’t know, what about the goats?!”

“ _Blake?_ ”

“Sorry! I was just checking with Yang. Things are a little crazy at the farm… goats are having babies. But… I want to see you.”

“ _We could come to Vale. Even if it’s just for a weekend… we’d love to see you. More than anything._ ”

She nodded, then caught herself. Yang raised her eyebrows, and Blake laughed nervously. “That… would be great.” She paused. “I miss you. And Mom. So much.”

“ _We’ve missed you for so, so long._ ” Just like that, she was crying again. 

They talked a little while longer, coming up with a plan for a potential visit. He was going to text Kali the minute they were done on the phone. She was out at the moment, but Ghira assured her that she would want to talk to Blake as soon as possible. He himself was ready to get on a flight to Vale that day, but Blake insisted he wait until the weekend. “We’ll be in Vale already. We could spend the night, catch up…”

And give her time to mentally prepare, Blake thought.

“So… he’s coming to visit?” Yang asked when Blake hung up. She nodded. Now that the phone call was over, she felt shell-shocked. “How’re you feeling?”

Blake shook her head. “I don’t know. It was… weird. So weird.”

“I can’t believe he called you back so soon!”

“He forwards his calls to his cellphone on weekends. I think he’s turned into a bit of a workaholic.” She leaned into Yang’s arms. “But he was ready to just… leave right this minute. For me.”

“It’ll be a long flight to Vale,” Yang commented.

“And he wants to come _this_ weekend. It’ll cost a fortune.”

“You _are_ their long-lost daughter. Why shouldn’t they want to get over here as fast as they can?” She moved her face in close to Blake’s. “I’m glad they’re coming. Everyone needs a parent.”

She kissed Blake, the gesture so soft that it felt little more than a passing breeze.

It was impossible to get back to sleep now, so Yang pulled the rest of her clothes on and raided the bathroom for the single-use soaps and shampoos. “Ruby made me promise I’d bring them home. God only knows why,” she explained with a snort. 

“So they know we’re here?”

“They know we’re somewhere. I told Dad that I drank too much and couldn’t drive. He’s pissed, but he can’t be _too_ pissed, because I was _responsible_.” There was a mischievous glint in Yang’s eyes that made Blake smile. 

Even after everything that had happened, Yang could still manage that look.

“Are you up to going home?” she asked. Blake nodded.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For everything. And I’m so sorry about last night.”

Yang didn’t need to respond with words. The kiss she gave Blake said everything.

They pulled back into the driveway an hour later. It was still early, and Taiyang looked surprised when the women started unloading the trailer.

“I wasn’t expecting you back so early,” he remarked. “What on earth possessed you to drink last night?!”

“Sorry, I needed a few celebratory shots for being off the farm,” Yang replied cheerfully, hauling a box back to the farmstand. He stared her down suspiciously, following with a box of his own.

“Then why aren’t you hungover? I know what you look like after _a few celebratory shots._ ” Yang shrugged.

“Maybe love cured it.”

Blake choked, and Taiyang groaned. “I don’t need to hear it.”

“Yaaaang!” Ruby ran out to join them. “Did you bring me the spoils of war?!”

“What?” Blake’s eyebrows shot up as they returned to the trailer.

“If little shampoo bottles are the spoils of war, I’ve gotta wonder what the point of this whole war was.” Yang shook her head, but pulled out the bag that she had stuffed the hotel freebies into. “If you get into trouble with these, you don’t know me.”

“Got it.” Ruby winked at her before rounding on Blake. “So, a hotel with my sister, huh? That doesn’t sound suspicious or _anything_!”

“Really, Ruby?” Taiyang grumbled as he came up behind them. He was shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ve raised a couple of monsters.”

“But we’re _you’re_ monsters!” Ruby trilled.

When they’d finished unloading, they all went back to the house together. They were lucky that Taiyang hadn’t made breakfast yet; Blake was eager for his cooking. She couldn’t remember eating dinner, and all Yang could claim as a meal was a cup of “the cheapest instant coffee on the planet” at the motel. 

“Anyone else in labor yet?” Yang asked, dishing scrambled eggs onto her plate.

“Didn’t look like it, though Lulu is supposed to be due tomorrow.”

“So maybe we can take a nap?” she asked hopefully. Taiyang frowned.

“Seriously? Didn’t you sleep last night?”

Blake and Yang couldn’t help but look at each other, and Ruby cackled. “I knew it!” she announced. Blake’s face burned and Taiyang made a show of covering his ears.

“Never mind, please don’t answer that. Fine, you can get away with a nap today. Just keep an eye on the goats, please. Ruby and I are gonna head back around noon. I'll wake you before we leave. Just, for the love of God, behave yourselves.”

“Never!” Yang promised. Blake managed a smile as they retreated to their room. It was good to be back here instead of the motel. It was cozier. Safer. She flopped onto the bed, savoring the familiar smells.

“Mind if I take a shower?” Yang asked. “The rain made my hair all frizzy.” She ran a hand through her blonde hair, as if trying to display the frizziness that Blake honestly couldn’t see.

“You could use it,” she teased. Yang snorted.

“So could you!” She hesitated, then added, “Y’know, I wouldn't mind a little help washing my back.”

Blake opened her mouth, to say she was too tired for sex, but closed it. Yang's expression was sincere. She hadn't said that as offer of sex, Blake realized. She wasn’t asking for payment for dealing with her breakdown the night before. That soft look Yang was giving her made her melt a little.

“I think I just need to lay down for a while. Maybe tomorrow?”

Yang nodded, smiling a little. There was no disappointment, which was oddly reassuring. “You bet. Just get some rest.” She kissed the top of Blake’s head before leaving, closing the door behind her with a soft _click_.

Blake closed her eyes. The photos were still on her mind, but not as strongly. She spent a moment trying to convince herself that Adam couldn’t possibly have done that. He was horrible, but not evil. The White Fang had murdered people when needed, but they never stooped to torture. Any deaths that happened were always quick. What had happened to the men in those photos had not been.

But who was she kidding? Adam had tortured her for years, hadn’t he? Not like in those pictures, but he had broken her. He’d always told her that _she_ had been the one to drive him to do it, and she’d believed him. She’d never asked to be hurt, to have her ribs broken, to be burned, to be choked, but he always told her that _she’d deserved it_.

If what Vernal said was true, and those men had been the ones to ruin his eye… She could see the quick leap Adam would make. He would do what he felt they deserved. An eye for an eye, so to speak.

She sat up, that fear pooling in the pit of her stomach once more. What would an eye for an eye mean for herself? Or, more importantly, for Yang?

What would _they_ deserve?

Even as she tried to steady her quickening heart, she was standing up, not wanting to be away from Yang right this minute. This was the opposite of running away, she realized. How could she have ever thought that running away would help either of them?

There was already steam in the bathroom, fogging up the mirror and the glass door of the shower. Ordinarily, she would have knocked at the door, but she didn’t want to wait, or have Yang not hear her knock over the shower. Just seeing her there calmed Blake slightly. Yang was massaging a thick layer of shampoo into her wet hair. Blake had never actually seen Yang shower before. She was unaware of the actual routine of her hair-washing, even though Yang had made it clear that whatever it was was practically a religious rite.

She didn’t know what to say, so she just stood there, somewhat stupidly, as she watched Yang rinse. The humidity in the bathroom was starting to bother her, but she didn’t move to take her clothes off. It felt wrong to do that without Yang’s agreement, even though she’d already specifically asked Blake if she wanted to join.

So she waited until Yang opened her eyes, most of the shampoo rinsed out. It was hard to see her expression through the clouded glass, but she slid the door open to poke her head out.

“Can I help you?” she asked, amused. Blake was grateful for the heat that had turned her face pink already, or else she’d have blushed at the tone.

“Would it be all right if I joined you?”

“Of course, baby. Hop in.” She held the door open while Blake undressed. “It’s a tight squeeze, but it’ll work.”

Yang wasn’t kidding about the tight squeeze, but being close to her was better than being alone with her own thoughts. They shuffled, giving Blake access to the showerhead while Yang put a mound of conditioner in her hair. As she did so, she regarded Blake curiously.

“What?” she asked, a little self-conscious. Yang smiled.

“Nothing. I’m just glad you changed your mind.”

Blake didn’t know if she meant about the shower or about running away. In the end, it didn’t matter.

“Me too.”

The world was a little less scary by the time they’d pulled their pajamas on and gotten into bed. Being together, under the blanket, in the safety of Yang’s bed, cast a warmer light on both of their outlooks. Yang seemed downright confident as she explained her ideas to Blake. Whether it was because of that confidence or because it was daylight, Blake felt reassured.

“I want you to carry one of those knives. I’m not like Raven, I have no idea how to use two at once,” Yang explained. “So it would be better if we each have one. If she ever gets out of jail, though, we can never tell her that, or she’ll probably kill me.”

“I’ll never breathe a word,” Blake replied with a small smile. She didn’t expect she’d ever have the guts to run anyone through with the knife, but it would be better protection than her pocket knife. Maybe the look alone would be enough to scare Adam off, she thought wryly. Those knives were terrifying.

On the nightstand, Blake’s phone rang. Yang frowned. “Who is that?”

The number was unfamiliar, but the country code was from Menagerie. Her parents? She answered. “...Hello?”

“ _Blake?!_ ” Her heart caught in her throat. That was her mother’s voice.

For the next hour, Yang held Blake as she talked with Kali for the first time in years. It must have been late in Kuo Kuana, but for her mother, it would never be too late to talk to her daughter. She couldn’t tell her everything-- she had a feeling that Ghira had already told Kali the few things she’d said about Adam, and she wasn’t going to tell either of them about Raven-- but they talked for a long time. Blake had thought she had cried out enough tears to last a lifetime already, but talking to Kali made them flow anew. 

Her mother. God, how she had missed her mother.

“ _Ghira tells me you’re a farmer now?_ ”

“Oh, I’m not the farmer, I’m--”

“ _Her girlfriend?_ ”

Kali sounded amused. Blake blushed and looked up at Yang, who cocked an eyebrow. “Well… yeah. You’ll really like her, Mom.”

Her voice cracked on that last word. Yang squeezed her hand.

“ _If she’s anything like what you told Dad, I’m sure I will._ ” Trying to hide the redness in her cheeks, Blake snuggled deeper against Yang. “ _I’m so, so relieved that you have someone in your life who loves you._ ” A pause, and then a choked, “ _I’ve… been so worried that you haven’t had that._ ”

“Mom,” Blake said softly. Yang stroked her back.

“ _I’m so glad you’re okay._ ” She could tell Kali was crying now. She hadn’t thought of how much that might hurt. As a kid, she had never seen her mother cry. She’d thought for a long time that grown-ups were immune to that kind of emotional response. It hurt to hear it now.

How many times had her mother cried over her through the years?

“ _We’re flying in on Friday night,_ ” she said, changing the subject and clearing her throat. “ _We know you have goats to take care of, so we’ll fly back out on Sunday, but as soon as you can, I’d love it if you came to visit._ ”

“Mom…”

“ _We’ll pay for the airfare, of course,_ ” she added, as if it mattered. “ _We’ve missed you. So much._ ”

Blake closed her eyes, wishing she could dam up these tears. “I’ve missed you, too.”

By the time she ended the call, she was drained. She couldn’t remember crying, ever, in her life, as much as she had this weekend. It felt like a boil had been lanced. All of that fear, the guilt, the humiliation, the shame, had been drained out of her with each phone call, with each gentle gesture from Yang.

She was grateful that Yang respected the silence that followed the phone call. Blake felt like her words were lost somewhere between the farm and Menagerie. So she closed her eyes and curled up against Yang. The exhaustion, emotional and physical, had claimed her.

There were no dreams.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! The beginning has a goat birth that's a little graphic. If that's not your thing, you can skip that part.

“All you need to do is hold her still.” Yang pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Blake would have been shaking in her position, she _was_ , in fact, but Yang was taking this calmly. She squirted lubricant into her palms and rubbed her hands together. “She might fight you, but she's exhausted right now. Just don't let her move.”

Blake gulped. She was straddling the small doe that lay on the ground, pinning her in place. For the past hour, Annie had been pushing with no progress. A small bubble of amniotic fluid had emerged, and burst, but there was no sign of a kid. Yang had warned her from the beginning that sometimes, intervention was necessary, but it hadn't been needed for any of the kids born that week. Luck had run out on poor Annie.

Yang's eyes were on her job as she hooked two exploratory fingers along the edge of the goat's vulva. She frowned, then went deeper. Annie cried out. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry,” Yang whispered before sliding her whole hand in. “I'm so sorry.”

Blake's heart was in her throat. It was impossible to guess what Yang was doing, but Annie writhed. Blake held her down, stroking her smooth black fur, offering hushed assurances. Yang shook her head. 

“Fuck. The head's twisted, _and_ it's breech. I can’t straighten it out. Next contraction, I'm going to pull. This is going to hurt her, but if we don’t get this kid out, both she and her other kids are gonna die, so you _need_ to hold her still.” Blake wasn’t sure how Yang’s words could be so damn _calm_. “You got her?”

“Yes.” She tensed her muscles, willing them not to tremble.

Within a minute, Annie’s belly rippled with a contraction. Yang gritted her teeth and pulled. One hand was still wrist-deep inside the goat, trying to guide the body out without getting any limbs caught. Annie screamed, tried to fight, but Blake kept her pinned, willing this to be over, willing that baby to come _out_.

When the contraction ended, two legs were out. “Shit,” Yang said. Her body was composed, but her voice hitched a little on that one word. “I always forget how slippery they are.” She shuddered. “This is a long kid.”

She repositioned herself, trying to find an angle that would allow her better leverage. Blake could feel the goat panting under her. Annie’s piercing blue eyes were dilated, looking beyond Blake. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

Yang’s hand was in again, and soon enough, Annie was pushing. Yang closed her eyes, using her hands to guide her as she pulled again. She was biting her lip hard, but seemed unaware of Annie’s bellows of agony. And then, a dark torso emerged. Yang’s hand slipped back in, trying to guide the head to come out as easily as it could.

The kid was lifeless, but Annie turned to it anyway, licking it intently, as if in a trance. “Towel,” Yang said, her voice hoarse. Blake grabbed one and tossed it to her, and Yang immediately wrapped the baby in it and began to rub it. “If there are more kids, catch them. They’ll come out easy now.” She rubbed the kid vigorously. A tiny tongue lolled out of its mouth. “Sometimes, if you rub them like this enough, they’ll revive.”

_Sometimes_. Such a cruel word.

It wasn’t even five minutes before a small dark face emerged from the carnage of Annie’s backside. Blake scooped it up, wiping at its mouth with a towel. This kid twitched, stirring to life in Blake’s arms like a newly-strung puppet. It wailed. She brought this kid around to Annie, who switched her focus from Yang’s kid to this healthy one. She bleated a little, then lapped at the furry head. The baby answered with a noise of its own. Blake was so entranced by this that she didn’t hear Yang’s words at first.

“Sorry?” She looked up, where Yang hadn’t ceased her movements on the kid. 

“Boy or girl?” she repeated softly. 

She unwrapped the kid, who was yelling at her now. “Boy.”

“So’s this one.”

Blake set down the buckling on its towel, where Annie continued her ministrations, to see if any more kids were emerging. All she saw was the water bag. 

“Go get some warm molasses water for her,” Yang instructed. “The extra sugar will do her good.” She paused. “I think she’s done.”

Blake obeyed, darting to the milking room as quickly as she could. The sink had hot, running water, so she mixed it with a spoonful of molasses. Annie was grateful for this, and paused her attentions of the buckling to gulp down several mouthfuls. She got to her feet shakily, and Blake pulled the baby away so that she wouldn’t step on him.

She’d never been so grateful for a kid being so quick to find the teat. Shortly after he’d found his feet, the buckling latched on greedily. He was a handsome fellow, black-haired with streaks of white. His eyes were the same piercing blue as Annie’s. It took her a moment before she sensed that Yang had stopped the intense rubbing of the first kid. She turned in time to watch Yang wrap the small body in the towel.

“It’s moments like this that’ll make or break a farmer,” she told Blake. Her voice was dull. “The first time something like this happened, I cried for days. Farming isn’t glamorous. It’s dirty, and heartbreaking…” She shook her head. She’d pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail when they’d noticed Annie had gone into labor, and a few stray strands had come loose. “But doing this, more than anything else I’ve ever done, reminds me of where we stand in life.”

“No,” Blake protested, but Yang gave her a tired smile.

“Life is fleeting,” she told her firmly. “And that’s why we need to make the most of it.”

Blake had no idea when Yang had taken her gloves off, but her hand reached for Blake’s sticky one. “Doing this reminds me of my place,” she added in a quiet voice. “However fleeting life is… my place belongs with you.”

She didn’t squeeze Blake’s hand too hard, but she didn’t need to. Blake knelt beside her, leaned her head in, and kissed her.

The next day, Yang’s right hand was black and blue. Blake had been horrified, but Yang brushed it off. “When you stick your hand in a goat while she’s contracting, you’re gonna get a bruise,” she told her matter-of-factly. She tried to assure Blake that it didn’t hurt, but she saw Yang’s winces whenever there was too much pressure on it.

Blake knew too well that there wasn’t much you could do for bruises, but she insisted Yang keep an ice pack on her hand whenever possible. Yang humored her, but it was hard for her to sit still for very long. It was Friday, and both of them were nervous.

“Dad’s on his way,” Yang informed her, looking up from her phone.

“I figured. Ruby’s been texting me all day, offering to sacrifice one of the pigs or something. She’s convinced that I’ve been sent from heaven to get her out of a math test.”

Yang laughed. “She knows she’ll have to take it when she goes back to school on Monday, right?”

They had told Taiyang about the potential visit from Blake’s parents before he left on Sunday, and he seemed elated for her. “We’ll come back early, if you need us to,” he’d said. “I can only imagine how they’re feeling right now. When I think of how easily my own daughter could have…” Yang had looked away, and Taiyang had shaken his head to clear the idea from his mind. “Anyway. Ruby and I can take care of the goats. Just let me know when.”

_When_ ended up being Friday night. Blake had been amazed at how quickly her parents had booked their tickets to Vale, and spent time between kiddings fretting over it.

“What should I even wear?” she moaned to Yang, rifling through her meager wardrobe. “All I’ve got are my work clothes. What are you wearing?”

“This.” Yang sat on the edge of the bed, dutifully pressing the ice pack to her hand. Blake raised her eyebrows.

Green flannel over an orange cami… and work pants. Blake rolled her eyes. “Really?”

“Well, I’ll button it up first. Y’know, I’m a lady.”

Yang had been trying to deflect Blake’s worry with humor, and this time, it worked. Blake laughed. “Yeah, you look _and_ sit the part.”

Yang brought knees back together, her face all innocence. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, darlin’. I’m sitting like a fuckin’ princess.” Then, in a more serious tone, she asked, “Should I wear Ruby’s coonskin cap, too?”

“At least you look good in whatever you wear.” Blake sighed. “I don’t know what my parents expect from me these days.”

“Are you kidding? You could wear nothing at all and still be beautiful.” Though the words were teasing, Yang’s sincerity was not. “Don’t worry about what they expect.” She pushed herself up, tossing her ice pack down to set her non-bruised hand on Blake’s waist. “Just be you.”

In the end, Ruby generously agreed to lend Blake a long-sleeved black top. Blake insisted on something with sleeves to cover up the trail of burn scars. That would be too much too soon, she told Yang. On this first visit, she didn’t want any attention drawn to her past. She regretted that she had told her parents as much as she did. She hardly knew them anymore, but she’d already spilled her guts out to them during those first phone calls. She hoped they wouldn’t bring up Adam’s treatment of her.

An odd calm had settled on the farm after they’d returned from Vale the previous weekend. Talking to Vernal had made it seem like Adam would pop up at any minute, but there was no sign of him. She and Yang had kept the knives sheathed at their belts, but all was quiet. Blake knew he was trying to lull them into a false sense of security. She knew he would come, but it hadn’t been this week.

“You guys look great!” Taiyang announced as they brought their overnight bags out to the living room. “Well, Blake does, anyway. Christ, Yang, you’re meeting your girlfriend’s parents, not hitting a bar for lesbian lumberjacks.”

Yang smirked. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll do that, too.”

True to her word, Yang had kept the flannel. She’d buttoned it up most of the way, but a bit of the orange cami stretched across her unbuttoned chest. She probably would have changed if Blake had asked. 

But she hadn’t.

“Do they even have those kinds of bars in Vale?” Ruby asked, sounding truly curious.

“Who knows? I’m sure there’s something like that somewhere,” Yang replied with a shrug. Taiyang rubbed his temple. 

“Why do I even bother?” he mused.

“Because you know better!” Ruby laughed. He shook his head, then turned back to Blake.

“I’m so happy for you, Blake. Not gonna lie, it broke my heart a little when Yang said you hadn’t spoken to your parents in so long. I’m glad you’re connecting now. Really.” 

“Thanks, Taiyang,” she replied, embarrassed. 

“Tai, please,” he insisted. “You’re family now.”

She was a little surprised by the warm hug. He’d hugged her before, but never often. Yang thought that he was afraid to make Blake uncomfortable, with her being so fresh from an abusive situation. But she was grateful for it, and she returned it with a strange feeling of relief.

Family. He thought she was family.

“Quit doing that,” Yang told her as they left the farm. Since they were skipping the market this weekend and would have guests, they took Taiyang’s sedan, and Yang was enjoying how much easier it was to accelerate. Blake had rolled her eyes at Yang’s triumphant whooping as they hit the speed limit in record time.

“Doing what?”

“The tapping.” Blake hadn’t noticed how loudly her fingers were drumming at the door. She stopped, bringing her hand to her lap.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I know you’re nervous, but doing that isn’t going to help.”

“So what would?”

Yang cranked the volume and slid her aviators on. “Rapping.”

She had no idea what any of the words were, but just bobbing her head to the rhythm and listening to Yang fire the words out of her mouth actually _was_ good for her nerves. Even when Yang switched radio stations, she was more at ease. Both of them sang along, loudly, to the songs they recognized. Once in a while, Yang would put her bruised hand on Blake’s knee, and for that moment, the world was downright peaceful.

Traffic in Vale on a Friday night was a nightmare, and the airport was worse. Yang had a hand poised, ready to lay on the horn at any given time. 

“HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF A FUCKING CROSSWALK?” she yelled at a couple leisurely jaywalking across the lanes to departures. The man saluted her with a middle finger without sparing her second glance. “Entitled city fucks,” she muttered.

Despite this, they found their way to short-term parking. Anxiety crept through every muscle of Blake’s body. Her body language must have screamed out her uncertainty. Yang noticed.

“You all right, baby?” she pushed her shades into her hair, coming around the car to wrap Blake in a hug.

“I’m just a little nervous.” Blake leaned into her, laying a head on her shoulder. “It’s been so long.”

“I get it.” Yang kissed her forehead. “And it’s okay.”

She kept an arm around Blake’s waist as they walked through the airport. It slowed their walk, but it also helped with Blake’s worry. As long as Yang was here, everything would be fine.

The plane had already landed, but it took another twenty minutes for people to start emerging. Blake had expected to see more Faunus, but the connecting flight had been in Vacuo. Yang held her tightly as Blake’s amber eyes scanned the crowd. Her heart pounded.

When she saw the tall figure walk through the gate, there was a sharp intake of breath. She had forgotten how tall Ghira was.

She stood, frozen to the spot, as they cleared the crowd. When had her mother gotten so small? Blake wondered. With a pang, she realized that wasn’t it. She had grown in the years she’d been gone. It was _she_ who had changed.

Yang gave her a reassuring squeeze, then loosened her arm from around her. Blake stood very still as father, mother, and child regarded each other.

“Hi,” she said at last.

She hardly had time to register that her father had his arms around her, swinging her around in a tight circle. Kali didn’t tolerate that for long. She pulled Ghira’s arm down so she could hug her daughter in her own arms. Ghira snatched both of them, his large, muscular arms holding the women tightly. 

“I can’t believe it’s you!” Kali cried, tears streaming freely down her face. “I almost didn’t want to believe this was actually happening, that we were really going to see you--”

“Me too!” Blake gasped. It had been so long since she’d been in such a motherly embrace, and now that she was in it, she didn’t ever want to leave. Kali wiped Blake’s cheeks. It was only then that she realized that she, too, was crying. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry--”

“No, no more of that.” Her father’s low voice was a rumble. It sounded like he was choking up, too. “That’s in the past. You’re here now.”

Her mother’s fingers were in her hair, on her face. Ghira was rocking all them in place, saying words that were incomprehensible. 

She was so caught up in their love that it took her a moment to recall Yang. “Oh, and there’s someone I want you to meet!” she told them, untangling herself from their embrace. “I want you to meet--”

“Yang,” Kali finished. Her voice was so warm. She’d missed that voice so, so much.

The three of them looked up at Yang, who was standing a distance away from them, watching them with a small smile, hands jammed in her pockets. Kali was the one who closed that distance. Without saying a word, she flung her arms around Yang who only stood there, startled for a moment, before returning the hug. The look on her face was incredulous. 

“Thank you. So, _so_ much,” Kali said, hugging Yang tightly against her. Yang blinked in surprise, unsure of what to do or say. Blake realized in that moment that it had probably been _years_ since Yang had received such a maternal hug. Her mouth was dropped slightly open, and Blake had to resist the urge to steal Yang away and kiss it. “You saved our daughter. I have no idea how we can ever thank you for that.”

“I… I didn’t save her,” Yang replied, bewildered. “She saved herself. I just helped.”

“No,” Blake said firmly. Yang’s eyebrows shot up as she studied her girlfriend. “You _did_ save me.”

To her relief, Yang lightened up on the road rage on the drive to the restaurant. It was dark now, and cold, but the Belladonnas had come prepared with jackets. “Menagerie is much warmer right now, but I would have come even if it was snowing,” Ghira told them. “Even if it was only for an hour.”

“How… _is_ everything in Menagerie?” Blake asked timidly, looking over her shoulder at her parents.

“Same as ever. Some folks have moved out to try and stake a climb in the wider world, but it’s still pretty crowded.”

“And you’re Chief now?”

“I am.”

“And he’s doing very well!” Kali added, a hint of pride obvious in her voice. “He’s made himself accessible to even the poorest in Kuo Kuana. That’s why you were able to reach his voicemail so easily.”

“Sounds risky for a politician,” Yang remarked. “That’s really cool.”

“People like to know they’re being heard,” Ghira told them. Blake could hear the smile in his voice. “I just didn’t think it would pay off in other ways.”

“Like making it easy for his daughter to get a hold of him.” Kali put a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “We never stopped hoping that we’d find you again.”

Blake put her hand on top of her mother’s. “I’ve missed you. All these years,” she said, her voice low.

“We missed you, too.” Kali’s voice sounded like it was going to break again. Blake squeezed her hand.

Yang pulled up to a seafood restaurant near the hotel. Blake had told her that seafood would be a safe bet for the Belladonnas, and Kali seemed to approve. Ghira looked down at Yang, expression unreadable.

“Is this because we’re cat Faunus?” he asked, deadpan. Blake had never seen Yang turn such a bright red. As she started to stammer, Ghira roared with laughter. “I’m teasing you. It’s a good choice.”

Blake couldn’t smother the laughter that welled up inside. Yang, still blushing, poked Blake in the side. “Jerk,” she muttered under her breath.

“At least he likes you,” Blake pointed out as her parents led them inside.

“Is he as bad as my dad? With the jokes?”

“Who knows? Remember, I haven’t been around him in years. He could be worse.”

“Great.”

Ghira insisted on paying for the meal. Yang tried to protest, saying that he’d already paid for the flight here _and_ the hotel rooms, but he was firm. 

“If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be here with our daughter right now,” he told her, his voice leaving no room for argument. “This is the least I can do.”

They kept most of their conversation to the most recent events, none of them ready to discuss the bull in the room. Instead, the Belladonnas asked questions about the farm, what they grew, what they made.

“My dad started it after my mom died,” Yang told them. “I think he’d had enough of the city, and he’d always been good at gardening, so--”

“I’m so sorry to hear about your mom,” Kali said, eyes full of sympathy. Yang dismissed it with a wave of her bruised hand.

“It was a long time ago. We’re all doing really well now, and I love working on the farm. And now--”

“What on earth happened to your hand?” Kali suddenly asked, taking Yang by the wrist. Again, Yang was blushing.

“A goat had babies yesterday. It was a tough birth, so Yang needed to, you know… go in and pull the baby out,” Blake explained. Kali ran a thumb over Yang’s bruised flesh.

“It looks painful. You should put some ice on it.” To Blake’s horror, Kali called out to their waiter. “Could we get some ice, please? Just ice.”

“Mom, you don’t need to do that,” she tried, but Kali shook her head.

“It looks painful.”

“Really, Blake’s been making me ice it a lot already,” Yang assured her. She gave Blake a smile. “She’s a great nurse.”

None of their words stopped Kali from filling her napkin with the ice the waiter brought. She pressed it against the bruise.

“Thanks,” Yang said sheepishly, taking the napkin. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I didn’t have to,” Kali agreed. “But I wanted to.”

Blake slid a hand, unseen, onto Yang’s knee. She squeezed.

“Is there anything in particular that you want to do tomorrow?” Yang asked. “I know the city pretty well. There’s museums, parks… we could go to the beach, but it’ll be pretty cold…”

“What do _you_ want to do?” Ghira flipped the question onto the two women. They looked at each other.

“Well, we come here every weekend for the farmers’ market,” Blake told them. “You’re the ones who came halfway across the world.”

“To see _you_. Everything else is secondary.”

They spent the whole dinner trying to figure it out. It turned out that Ghira came to Vale a couple times a year for work, so he wasn’t a complete stranger to the city. He and Yang discussed the tourist traps, which they both agreed would be wastes of time. As they complained together about finding parking in these places, Blake made eye contact with her mother. Kali’s eyes flickered to Yang, then smiled.

Blake fought a blush.

\--

“Well, this is a little better than the motel,” Yang remarked in amazement when they bid the Belladonnas good night. It wasn’t as high-end as some places in Vale got, but it was a very comfortable suite. “Shit, I bet the shampoos here are the kind Ruby will go nuts over.”

“Dad was going to get us separate rooms,” Blake told her, amused, as Yang fell onto the bed face-first. “It took a little convincing, but he was okay with this in the end.”

“I hope he doesn't regret it now,” Yang said, rolling over. She was grinning.

“Are you kidding? I think he’s ready to adopt you.” Blake had been so relieved that Ghira and Yang got along so well. Their familiarity with Vale had bound them together somehow, and by the end of the meal, Yang was openly cursing with him about city traffic.

Yang started unbuttoning her flannel. “Your parents are _so_ nice. They can adopt me any day.” She pulled the flannel off, balled it up, and tossed it at a nearby chair. She missed. “How are you feeling? About… all of this?”

Blake sighed and came to sit beside her on the bed. “I wish I’d never left. Even after all these years… they’re still so good to me.”

Yang kicked her boots off and wriggled over to Blake, resting her head in her lap. “They love you,” she said. “I knew they still would.”

Blake smiled. “I guess you’re right.”

The next day, they enjoyed the hotel’s complimentary breakfast. Yang and Ghira were nearly in tears with laughter when Blake somehow overfilled the waffle iron and had batter rolling off the tablecloth. 

“There’s cups there for a reason!” Yang could hardly speak through her laughter.

“What cups?!”

“You fill it up and that’s how much batter you’re supposed to use! What the hell did you use?!”

Blake stuck her lips in a pout. “I just scooped it in. I was going to make the waffle thick so we could share, so I just put in as much as I thought we’d need!”

Yang had doubled over, unable to control herself.

“I’m exercising my right as a parent to forbid you to even go near that waffle iron again,” Ghira announced when he could speak again. He wiped a tear from his eye.

“It’s like… a forbidden waffle iron romance!” Yang cackled.

Even Kali was chuckling now. “You’re all ridiculous.”

Despite her embarrassment, Blake somehow survived breakfast. The plan they’d ultimately decided on would be to just wing it. The four of them together felt… natural, Blake was surprised to find. The years between Blake and her parents hadn’t closed them off from each other at all. It put her heart at rest.

Blake had been curious about one of Vale’s bookstores, and at the briefest mention, Yang plugged it into her GPS. “We don’t have to go there right now!” she tried to tell her, but her parents were already asking her questions. Did she still read as much as she used to? What kind of books did she like? Remember how she used to love that one series of books?

“She used to dress up like her favorite character!” Kali told them, happy to reminisce. “She’d put this old pair of glasses on, put on my robe, and play in the garden with a magic wand.”

“It was a fairy, right?” Ghira asked.

“A witch,” Blake mumbled. She caught the grin on Yang’s face and felt like she could melt into her seat. Her parents had been bringing up various memories from her childhood, and too many of them had her blushing. Yang, though, was eating it up.

“I think I know what series you’re talking about!” Yang said. “I loved those books. Mom used to read them to us, but after she died… I took up the mantle and started reading them to Ruby myself.”

There was a small silence, and Yang laughed nervously. “Ugh, sorry, guys. There I go, killing the conversation.” Abruptly, she lay on the horn. “ARE YOU TURNING, OR WHAT?”

“I think that’s very sweet,” Kali said. She touched Yang’s shoulder. “It sounds like you were a good older sister.”

“She still is,” Blake added before Yang could protest. “She’s been stockpiling all of the free soaps in the hotel room because Ruby’s been collecting them.”

It felt good to be the one to make Yang flush for a change. She caught Ghira’s grin in the rearview mirror. 

“Hey, if there’s anything I can do to make her happy, I’ll try to do it.” Yang shrugged. She found some street parking and pulled in. “Here we go. It’s a couple blocks that way, but this is probably the best spot we’ll get.”

Just stepping into the bookstore felt refreshing. Blake took a deep breath, taking in the smells of old and new books. It had been so long since she’d been in any kind of bookstore, and this one was _huge_. She could have easily spent a day, or even a week, in here.

She and Yang went upstairs together while Ghira and Kali browsed the downstairs. Yang pointed out archways made of books. “I love how they’ve done this, but the fucking tourists come in and block the aisles for selfies next to them,” Yang commented. “Like… can’t they just sit back and enjoy it?”

Blake pulled a used book off the shelf. It was an author she enjoyed, and she had owned this book in another lifetime. She opened it up and just breathed in the smell. Nothing could beat this smell.

“You look like such a nerd,” Yang remarked fondly. Blake smiled and closed the book.

“I just appreciate the finer things.” She took Yang’s hand, winked, and pulled her along the aisles.

A half hour later, they weren’t even pretending to be interested in books. They’d found a secluded corner to sit where Blake could straddle Yang’s lap. Blake had never made out with anyone in a bookstore before. Doing so would have been sacrilegious. It had seemed that way until now, anyway. Now, nothing could have felt more right, kissing the woman she loved while surrounded by the musty smell of old books.

“Blake Belladonna!” Ghira growled.

She’d never moved so fast in her life. Blake practically jumped off Yang’s lap, while Yang looked unconcerned. She wished Yang would stop licking her lips like that. It was damning.

“I’m sorry!” Blake said automatically, wincing at the way the words sounded as they came out. She cringed. Ghira frowned, and looked at his wife beside him, whose eyebrows were raised. It looked like he had to think those words over in his head before a sad look crossed his face. He shook his head.

“I could kill him,” he finally said, “for making you react that way to me.”

Yang’s eyes were on Blake now. Everyone’s were. Ghira moved slowly, approaching Blake like one would approach a kicked puppy. When he put his arms out, she flinched. He hesitated, then pulled her in for a hug.

It took a few seconds before she sagged against him. She knew he was safe. Her father was safe.

The rest of the day had no further hiccups like that. Blake wished she could have taken her reaction back. She could tell it was on Ghira’s mind for much of the day, hanging over their heads like a stormcloud. Kali, for her part, tried to lighten the mood, but Blake knew that she was thinking about it, too. 

“It’s… going to take a while. For me to… get back to normal, I guess,” Blake finally said after dinner that night. The check was paid and they were finishing their drinks. She couldn’t look any of them in the eye. She felt Yang’s hand on the small of her back. 

“You’ve been through hell,” Kali told her. Her voice was kind. How was her voice always so kind? “No one can blame you for that.”

“Just myself.” Blake shook her head. “It’s my own fault any of that happened at all.”

“He manipulated you.” No, Kali’s voice wasn’t always kind. When it came to Adam, her voice was hard. “You can’t take the blame for what he did to you.” She put a hand on Blake’s cheek. “It isn’t your fault.”

She was glad that their table was in the back of the restaurant. Nobody was there to stare as she leaned against her mother and started to cry.

It was hard to say goodbye.

Getting into the airport was as dreadful as it had been the first time, but Yang still insisted they see them off to security. 

“You didn’t have to walk us in,” Ghira chuckled as they forded the crosswalk. 

“Who knows when we’ll see each other again?” Blake said. “Might as well go in.”

“After kidding season, or as soon as you can, you need to come to Menagerie,” Kali said. “Both of you.”

“I’ve never been on an airplane before,” Yang told them cheerfully. This surprised Blake, and her parents even more so.

“Then it’s settled. As soon as you’re able to, you’ll have to visit. I have a lot of extra miles, so I’ll have your tickets covered.”

“That’s not--”

“It is.” He smiled. “You’ve done so much for our daughter. You’re welcome in our home anytime.”

Yang looked at Blake, and Blake thought those lilac eyes might have been glassy. “Thank you.”

Both Ghira and Kali took a turn hugging Yang. Like when they had first arrived, Yang had an incredulous look on her face that made Blake’s heart ache. Kali smiled and thumbed a small tear at the corner of Yang’s eye.

“I know you’ll take care of my daughter,” she told her, in that same kind, loving voice. “Everything will be okay.”

At security, Blake felt a longing for her parents even before they left. They each gave their daughter a long hug, none of them wanting to let go. Ghira kissed the top of her head. “I’ll come as soon as I can,” Blake promised. She tried to think of a way to draw it out so they would miss their flight, so they wouldn’t leave at all, but in the end, she couldn’t do that. She _wouldn’t_ do that.

“We know you will.” Kali kissed her on the cheek. “I’m so glad we could see you. I’ve wanted to see your beautiful face for so long.”

“Call us whenever you can,” Ghira added. “Even if it’s just to say ‘hey.’”

“I will.” Blake’s voice cracked. “I love you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“We love you, too.”

When they finally pulled apart, Blake tried not to think that it could be for the last time. Her fear of Adam wasn’t going to ruin this. Not today. Yang took her in her arms as they watched the Belladonnas move through security. When they cleared it, they gave a last wave. Kali blew a kiss, which Blake returned.

Even after they turned the corner, Yang and Blake stood in silence. Blake took comfort from the warmth of Yang’s core, of her arms wrapped around her.

“I miss them already,” Blake said at last. Yang squeezed her.

“I’m so glad they came.”

“Me too.”

When they got back to the car, Yang frowned. A plastic bag has been left in the backseat. “I wonder if it’s too late to get this to their plane,” she said, grabbing it. She looked inside, stared at it for a moment, and then laughed. “Oh, they’re too much.”

Blake looked in and started laughing, too.

It was full of little bottles of shampoo and tiny bars of soap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50,000 words is a pretty big milestone for someone who consistently fails Nanowrimo. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I'm SO bad responding to comments, but I love them all and I love you all. Follow me on tumblr or twitter if that's your thing! Tumblr is pugoata, Twitter is MKandtheforce.
> 
> See y'all in the next chapter, fam! xoxo


	12. Chapter 12

Life was sunny.

Seeing her parents had put a bit of hope in Blake’s life. She found herself telling Yang more about her childhood in Menagerie. It had been so long since she’d been there, and she had worked so hard to forget it, that the flooding memories were almost overwhelming. The smell of the sea, the tropical air, the friendliness of the people. There was so much that she had buried, so much she needed to express. But Yang always listened.

She always, always listened.

In return, Yang told her more about her childhood. She was old enough to remember some of the years spent in Vale, before Summer died. It was hard to imagine Yang ever living somewhere that wasn't a farm, but somehow, she painted that picture.

It was hard for Blake to hear about the events surrounding Summer's death. Yang could remember that day so clearly: Summer, reminding them that she'd pick up some pizza on the way home from work. The phone call that broke Taiyang. Ruby, too young to understand, asking if Mommy was bringing home the pizza because she was so hungry. One of officers took pity on them and brought some. It took a long time for the sisters to understand why their mom wasn't the one to bring it.

But most of the memories were happy. A tire swing that Taiyang had pushed the sisters on. Little Faunus children busting open coconuts on a hot day. Blake and Yang found that there had been a pop star when they were ten that they had both obsessed over, and the shared nostalgia had been so unexpected, but so fun.

They had uncovered that singer’s old CD, which they played in the barn. The cheesy lyrics, and the realization that this music had bound them together long before they ever met, had them dancing around more excitedly than they would have any other time. The cold had killed off the remaining plants outside, so they spent most of the time in the barn with the goats, blasting music. Blake was surprised that many of the does took comfort in their presence as labor drew near. It touched her deeply when she watched Yang sit with one nervous mother for several hours, all the way through her birth. 

“You're so good with them,” Blake remarked after they checked the ones left to kid, fondness in her voice and a flutter in her heart. Yang was re-stacking her pile of towels, and she was smiling. 

“I like to think I know what I'm doing.”

Blake stared at her another minute, finding it harder and harder to fight the burning sensation that had been growing within her that day. It made her stare whenever Yang stretched, her heart beat just a little bit faster whenever Yang looked at her. She couldn't resist brushing up against her more often than was truly necessary. It was this heat that drove her to stand behind Yang as she refolded another towel. 

“Are you just gonna stand and watch?” Yang asked, amused. 

“I think so. I like the view.” She had no idea where this sass came from, but Yang replied with a ringing laugh. “You're almost done with that, anyway.”

She set a hand on Yang's hip and lay her head on her back. She smelled like hay and coffee. Absently, her hand trailed down, coming to rest on her ass. It was only a touch, not even a squeeze, but Yang paused.

“What are you doing, baby?” she asked in a low voice. Her tone made a shiver of thrill run up Blake's back. She had no response. Yang turned, too slowly to be anything but deliberate. Her eyes glittered in the winter sunlight that shone through the windows. It was that feeling again, that they could see right into Blake's soul. It made her feel so exposed. It didn't help that the CD finished its last track. All was silent, save for occasional sounds of the goats and the beating of their hearts. “Is there something you need?”

Her throat was dry, so dry. She couldn't speak, not when Yang was looking at her like _this_.

Blake's back hit the barn wall. She hadn't realized she had been backing up, nor that Yang had been stepping closer. The corner of Yang's lip twitched as she pinned Blake there with her body, a hand on her hip and her other arm beside her head. Blake's heart raced. Yang's face came close to her own, her lips within inches of Blake's.

“Tell me what you need,” she repeated, voice soft.

Blake lunged, her lips meeting Yang's with what could only be lust. Was that what the fire in her belly was? Was that what caused the slickness between her legs? Was that what fueled this intensity?

Yang was ready. She pushed Blake against the wall, her own kiss as hard as Blake's. She had her thumb in the waistband of Blake's jeans, and just the barest flick of that thumb against her skin drove Blake wild. She was a beast, caged in these clothes, these trappings of man. Their tongues met, furious as they glided around each other. Blake's mouth worked, surprised that despite how strong her desire was, keeping up with Yang was a struggle.

Yang unbuckled the belt, undid the button, the zipper, and slid Blake's jeans just far enough to work her hand in. Blake could _feel_ the smirk in her kiss. She shuddered as a finger ran up the damp fabric of her underwear.

“You're dripping, Belladonna.” Her lips were still on Blake, but her tongue was back in her mouth in order to speak, to tease. “Tell me what you want.”

“Touch me.” Her voice was a whimper. A beg.

Yang was smiling openly now. She pulled down the jeans and underwear the rest of the way down, allowing Blake the space to step out of them. The air on her bare legs made Blake shiver. Still pressed against the wall, she was helpless as Yang cupped her mound in one hand. It dipped lower, to trail a light finger against her warm, ready lips. Blake opened her mouth, to gasp, but Yang swooped in to catch the sound in her mouth.

The gasp turned to moan as Yang's fingers slipped inside her, cool against the heat of her body. Yang had been right, she _was_ dripping. She writhed as the fingers swirled, their movement easy and free amid the wet.

The whole time, she was aware of how Yang was smiling as she kissed her.

Blake parted her legs, little by little, unable to control the way her body bloomed to Yang's touch. She was weak-kneed. If Yang hadn't been keeping her against the wall, she was sure she would have fallen. Threads of electricity danced through her body as Yang's fingers flattened against her clit. That light touch, the gentle strokes, increased in fervor until lightning flashed over Blake. Her eyes opened wide, meeting an entranced red stare. Cum leaked onto Yang's long fingers as a deep, guttural groan rattled not just through Blake’s throat, but down her whole body.

Before she could recover, Yang pulled Blake against her. Holding her in one arm, she grabbed one of the towels and spread it on the floor of the empty stall. She lay Blake down on it so she could pull her own clothes off. Yang’s pale skin was flushed, and her shirt had to be peeled away from the sweat of her body.

Blake had pushed herself up to watch, hungrily. She wanted to run her hands over Yang's curves, across the breasts that fell free from her bra, down the slope of her spine. Yang was caught off-guard when Blake grabbed her, pushing her onto the towel she had been laying on only a second before.

She indulged, roaming her fingers over every tantalizing part of Yang's body. It always surprised Blake that Yang's body could be so toned, but still have just the right amount of softness. She watched the goosebumps form, the nipples harden. Yang grunted, wriggling against Blake's grip, but not to fight her off. Blake knew the effect of her touch, so she paced herself. She straddled Yang's thigh, wanting her pinned down where she could see. 

Yang licked her lips while Blake slowly started to grind against her. She was aware of her own wetness as her body moved, the smoothness of the motion. She was still tender from her own orgasm, but she craved more. There was a deep, aching spot in her that needed this, and the rhythm was _fine_.

She leaned over Yang, her kisses needy. Yang was making little gasps as Blake's mouth migrated from her lips, down her neck, across the length of her collarbone, to her breast. The soft skin gave under the pressure of her tongue. She wrapped her lips around the nipple, drawing it into her mouth and releasing it with a small, wet sound. Yang made a strangled sound that made Blake grin. 

She had Yang distracted enough by that so that she wasn't expecting it when Blake's fingers drifted across her cunt. There was a sharp intake of breath, and Blake's fingers came away wet. She bent over to whisper into Yang’s ear.

“You know what I want.”

She slid off Yang's thigh to face the crux of her legs. She hadn't done this enough to feel completely confident about what she was doing, but what she had learned from Yang was just _acting_ confident was sexy. And from the way Yang reacted, it worked.

Yang's inner heat was always came as a small surprise, but it felt good on her tongue. She probed Yang's opening experimentally, looking for the places Yang would react to the most. She took in every inhale, every gasp, every whimper. 

She looked up, almost shyly. Yang was propped up in her elbows, staring Blake down with wide, desperate eyes. Blake's mouth quirked into a smile and wondered if Yang could feel it.

“You're so hot,” Yang managed to breathe. 

There was something delicious and powerful in bringing Yang to this, naked and lost in this moment. Something in Blake's heart surged.

God, she loved this woman.

As Yang had always instructed her, Blake took her time. The hints she took from Yang indicated she was doing _something_ right. It wasn't just in moans or exultations, either. The clenching of her muscles, the way they twitched, the speed of her breathing. Blake took those cues and catered to them. Somewhere in the background, she heard a phone ringing, but she ignored it.

_This_ was _control_.

The way Yang cried out Blake’s name was gloriously profane. Blake drew back to watch Yang as she convulsed, mesmerized at what she had done. Yang looked back, breathing heavily. Blake was unable to put a word on the expression that was there, but it was one that she could have stared at forever. She licked her lips and watched a devilish grin break across Yang’s face. Too quickly, she grabbed Blake by the shoulder, rolling on top of her, trapping her.

“I love the way you look under me.” Yang said in a low growl. Blake's breath hitched.

She didn't mind ceding that control to Yang.

Though they had set another couple towels down, they still ended up covered in straw. It clung to the sweat on their skin, and Blake mumbled a complaint about how itchy the stuff was when she finally felt able to sit up.

“That’ll teach you for messing with me in a barn!” Yang laughed. Even so, she was scratching at it, too. She didn’t bother putting her bra back on. As she explained to Blake, “Nothing is worse that having straw stuck to your tit.”

Blake was almost rolling with laughter. It was times like this when she couldn’t remember that she had even considered running. 

“Shit, four missed calls.” Yang frowned as she picked up her phone. “Do you know this number?”

Reality started to seep into her bones again all too quickly. She looked at Yang’s screen. She _did_ recognize this number. She’d had it memorized for years now, in case of an emergency. Not that it'd done her much good.

“Ilia.”

There were no voicemails, but there was a text message. Blake’s heart fell to her feet as she digested the message.

_You need to run. He’s coming now_.

All that laughter, all that joy, gone in an instant. Time slowed down. They stared at each other.

Yang moved first. She hit a couple buttons and put the phone to her ear. It rang. And rang. And rang.

“Shit, she isn’t picking up.” Yang’s brows furrowed as she dialed another number. This one picked up right away. “Hey-- Oh, hey, Sun. No, listen. I just got a message that that guy is coming. Yeah, _that_ one. I don’t know when, but could we get someone over here?”

Blake’s ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton. She was still staring at Yang, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“Oh, okay. So you’ll be nearby?”

Blake was sinking, sinking to the ground, sinking in her brain. This was it. Yang’s gaze softened, and she sat beside her. Her touch was the only thing that grounded Blake to the real world.

“I will. Thanks, man, I owe you one.” When she hung up, both arms went around Blake. “Baby, listen to me. We’re going to be okay. Sun said someone’ll drive by every hour, and that they’ll come the minute we ask.”

“Why can’t they just… stay?” Blake’s words didn’t feel like they were leaving her mouth right. Yang shook her head and pulled her tighter.

“It’s a small police station. They don’t have many cops to spare. But they’re only fifteen minutes away. Sun also thinks we’ve got a better chance of catching him if we don’t have a cruiser parked in the driveway.”

“You’re not going to trap him,” Blake replied. Her voice sounded dead. “ _He’s_ the one who traps.”

“Not this time, I swear to God.” Yang buried her lips in Blake’s hair. “I swear to God, we’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

They decided-- or rather, _Yang_ decided-- that they would stay in the barn for the rest of the afternoon and through the night. If Adam were to show up, she explained, he would try the house first. She hoped that just looking for them would stall him long enough for the police to arrive. Blake couldn’t make any worthwhile suggestions. She could only nod and nod and nod.

But at least she hadn’t broken down. She’d come close to it when Yang took the chance of running to the house for food and her gun. She begged Yang not to go, and had spent the ten agonizing minutes of her absence fearing for her safety. With her luck, _this_ would be the moment Adam would arrive. She could see it in her mind’s eye: she imagined Adam finding Yang, cornering her, breaking her bit by bit…

“I know it’s not much of a dinner, but I got granola bars and some chips.”

She had heard Yang coming, of course. All of her senses were hyper-aware, listening for anything out of the ordinary, trying to prepare for the worst. She didn’t look at the gun Yang set by the stall door. She didn’t want to think about what it meant.

“I’m not hungry.” Blake stared at the ground, at the towels that still lay crumpled in the hay. They had loved in that spot, so recently, so perfectly. She couldn’t even recall those feelings now.

“You should still eat. It’ll give you energy.”

“You know it’s not quite dinner yet, right?”

“It’s never too early to start eating.” As if to make a point, Yang pulled a granola bar out of the box. She set the box and chips next to what remained of the stack of towels and sat down beside Blake. “If you’re not quick, I’ll probably eat the whole box before midnight. Which wouldn’t be good, ‘cause that would mean I wouldn’t shit for a week--”

“Babe, I know you’re trying to make me laugh, but I don’t think I can right now.”

Yang sighed. “I’m sorry. I just… don’t know how to help. What I can say. I mean, we knew this would happen, but now that it has… I don’t know what to do.”

Blake cuddled against her, ears flat against her head. Yang had been _trying_ to be confident. She was trying so hard. But now, she only sounded lost.

“Just… be with me. That’s all we can do, I guess.”

Yang nodded, sliding an arm around her. “I can do that, at least. I can do that forever.”

“Please do.” Blake nestled into the curve of her body. She loved the way she fit so perfectly there. So warm, and that unique Yang-smell was comforting. Their bodies could have been made for each other.

_This_ was the body she was meant to fit with. It had to be. It had to be fate.

Adam had no place in her fate.

They were both alarmed when Yang’s phone began to ring about an hour later. The noise was so loud, so out of place. Both of them jumped.

“Ilia again,” Yang said, her disbelief plain. She answered and put the phone on speaker. “Hello?”

“ _I saw you called back. I’m so sorry I couldn’t answer, there were too many people nearby._ ” As always, hearing Ilia’s voice hurt. “ _Have you gotten away?_ ”

“What did Adam tell you?” Yang still didn’t trust Ilia, despite the fact that she had passed on the warning. Ilia was quiet for a moment. Did she realize that she still wasn’t trusted?

“ _He didn’t tell me anything._ ” Ilia sounded frustrated. “ _He doesn’t talk to me about Blake anymore. He was pissed I didn't bring her back that time, so I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m not reliable. But I did hear him talking to some of his… people. A few of them left together. We were at a meeting, and--_ ”

“And what? How long ago was this? Where _are_ you guys, anyway?”

“ _I called you the minute I could get away from the meeting. I swear. Is Blake with you? Can you tell her that--_ ”

“ _What_ did he say?”

Ilia sighed. “ _He didn’t see me, and I didn’t even hear the whole conversation. He was saying something like, ‘It’s only a farm, it won’t be that hard.’ And your farm is literally the only one any of us know about, so I knew he was talking about you. Please, Yang, please tell Blake I’m so sorry. I should have believed her. After seeing how he’s been… God, I’ve been so stupid. He’s, like… lost his mind. The other day, we were on a job, and he started ranting and punched a hole in the fucking wall._ ”

Yang exhaled through her teeth. “Because of Blake?”

“ _He’s just… gotten worse over the past few weeks. I heard that even Sienna’s chewed him out for it._ ” Ilia began to trip over her words as her words got faster. “ _And you know, he… he even beat up someone last week. Another person from the White Fang! All they did was ask him where Blake was!_ ”

“Ilia.” Blake couldn’t stay quiet anymore. “Do you know what he’s planning to do?”

“ _Blake?! Is that you? Blake, I’m so sorry! I had no idea he did anything like this. I should have listened--_ ”

“Ilia, please,” Blake said. A whimper tried to creep into her voice and she was grateful that Yang was still holding her. “What is he doing?”

“ _I have no idea._ ” Ilia’s voice was full of emotion. Regret? “ _If I knew, I’d tell you. He had a few people with him. Three at least, maybe four or five. I just… I’m so sorry. I didn’t believe you, and he did all that--_ ”

“Ilia,” Blake pleaded. “I promise, we can talk about this once this is over--”

“ _Blake, he’s going to kill you._ ”

Blake and Yang exchanged a look. Yang didn’t look scared. She looked… _tired_. 

“Ilia, I’m not going to let that happen.” Blake had no idea how Yang could speak with such conviction about something so uncertain. “We’ve got the police on standby, and I’ve--”

“ _He’s White Fang_ ,” Ilia snapped. “ _You think he can’t get past the cops? He’s been doing that since he was a kid._ ”

“So what? We should just sit here and wait for him to kill us?!”

“ _No, you need to_ run!”

“So he can keep chasing her down? Chasing us?! No. We’re going to _end this_.” Yang’s voice had taken a sharp edge. Blake couldn’t tell if she believed her own words, but they _sounded_ convincing. 

The back and forth with Ilia continued far too long. Blake winced every time Yang’s voice rose in volume. What if Adam heard them?

“Ilia,” Blake finally interrupted. She put a hand up, warning Yang to be quiet. “Thank you. So much.”

“ _I’m so sorry._ ” As she’d hoped, Ilia shut up her argument right away. “ _I wish… I had been there for you._ ”

Blake nodded at the phone, as if Ilia could see her and understand. “So do I,” she replied, her voice almost too soft for Ilia to hear. From the other end of the phone, Blake heard a suppressed sob, then a _click_.

How many ways could a heart break?

Yang took care of the animals that evening. Whereas Blake felt safer curling into the corner of the stall, Yang was restless. She took her gun with her to close up the chickens, even though their little room was in the barn with them. She kept peeking through windows, as if expecting to see someone snooping around the property. Yang’s patrolling made Blake nervous for her, but there had been no sign of anyone. Not even the wind was blowing.

When darkness fell, they draped themselves with towels. There weren’t many clean ones left, so they used the ones they had rolled on earlier. They still smelled like sex and they were covered with straw, but they didn’t want to run out of towels for any potential goat births. The smell reminded Blake of a long gone era, an almost forgotten, blissful time. To think, it had only been that afternoon.

She didn’t expect to fall asleep, but she did, snuggled in a corner with Yang’s arms loose around her.

_Ding_.

Blake probably would have slept through the chime of the phone had Yang not stirred. It took her a moment to remember why she was in the barn. It all came flooding back to her. She opened her mouth, to gasp, or maybe to say something, but Yang lay a quick finger against Blake’s lips. Her eyes were wide.

She said nothing as she made a few quick taps on her phone. “Sun,” she whispered. “Someone’s on our property. Can you send someone by right now?”

Sun’s words were too faint to make out, but they were frantic. Nausea welled up inside Blake. Something was wrong. Terror had frozen to Yang's face.

“Are you shitting me?” She clutched at Blake, almost painfully. “This can’t be a coincidence.”

The officer’s voice was rising, and Blake could make out words. “ _...nobody was in the other car. They looked everywhere, but nobody was there!_ ”

“How does that even happen?!”

“ _I don’t know! Most of the officers are there now._ ”

“What about us?!”

“ _Shit… Screw it. Neptune and I are on our way. We’ll be there as soon as we can._ ”

Blake had only half-heard the intelligible words. She was pulling up the security app on her phone. If there was anyone on the cameras, she needed to know. Her hands were shaking violently, making it difficult to hit the right buttons on the app in the first place. She kept entering the wrong password. 

“There was… an accident,” Yang told her. Her words came out with a shudder. “Someone… rigged a car. It was right at the edge of town. They… somehow got the car running and did something to the accelerator. It… didn’t stop.” She took a deep breath. “Somehow, they timed it to hit another car. It was… really bad. But most of the cops are over there, trying to figure it out. Sun and his partner were the only ones left at the station.”

“A diversion.” Blake’s stomach was roiling. If there was anyone who could plan a diversion, it was Adam. The app opened, and she flipped through the different cameras, scanning.

And there he was.

Black started clouding at the edges of her vision. Her light-headedness won for a brief moment as she swooned where she sat. Yang caught her before she dropped completely.

“Shhh, easy, baby,” she murmured, brushing Blake’s hair back nervously. She took Blake’s phone and looked down at it.

Adam was looking directly at the camera.

When Blake managed to focus back on the phone, she managed to hold it together. She couldn’t see any expression on his face; the mask hid his eyes. He was unreadable. He faced the door of the house, considered, then raised a booted foot. They’d taken to locking the front door, but the doorknob itself was cheap. He had no problem bashing it off the door with a few _thuds_ of his heel.

Blake’s nails dug into Yang’s side, but Yang said nothing. Her red eyes were glued to the screen.

They could see nothing after he entered the house. Blake’s brain was screaming at the violation. This was a _safe place_ , he couldn’t just barge in and strip her of that safety-- but that was exactly what he did. Blake couldn’t watch. She buried her face in Yang’s chest, shaking so hard that Yang had to move the phone away from her to keep it steady.

As they waited, they hardly dared breathe. Yang’s body was tense, ready to move at any noise. Blake was frozen. If Adam had walked in on them right that minute, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to move an inch.

Time was lost to her. The only measure of it she knew was in the rise and fall of Yang’s chest, and the pounding of her own heart. Minutes, or hours, or years, it could have been any length of time. The world was silent.

Until the gunshots.

Two loud _bangs_ ricocheted across the night. Yang clamped a hand around Blake’s head, pushing her mouth into her chest to muffle Blake’s scream. She was sobbing now, sobs that she silenced in Yang’s body.

“Nobody was in there,” Yang told her quietly. There was awe in her voice. “What the fuck did he shoot?” 

Some of the goats bleated at the foreign sound. Blake recoiled. Would that noise draw attention to the barn? Yang tightened her grip on Blake.

“He’s… leaving the house. And… what?!” 

Blake bit her lip to choke back any further sounds her body might have tried to make. Yang stared, incredulous, at the phone. “What’s happening?” Blake asked, her voice catching.

“He’s leaving.” Yang was shaking her head. “He just… got in the car and left.”

Blake had to see it to believe it. As Yang had told her, he was back in his car. He peeled away, the tires flinging up rocks on their dirt driveway. Even after he left, they stared at the phone.

It was only a couple minutes before they heard the sweet, wonderful sound of sirens.

Still, they waited until two uniformed officers were out of the car. They moved slowly toward the house, guns drawn. Yang’s sigh of relief almost sounded giddy.

“That’s them. Let’s get out there.”

Blake still couldn’t move. The shock had immobilized her, so Yang slipped her arms underneath her and picked her up. Those farmer’s muscles, so used to swinging bales of hay and shoveling muck, lifted Blake’s smaller body easily. Yang cradled her so lovingly that it took Blake a moment to feel embarrassment.

“Sun! Neptune!” Yang called as they approached the house. The officers were inspecting the door. The blue-haired one was taking pictures of the wreckage.

“Oh, thank God you’re okay!” The blonde one-- a Faunus, of all things-- rushed over to them. “We saw the door and were worried--”

“We were in the barn. We’re fine.” Gently, Yang lowered Blake to the ground. She stood, but she was still shaky. “What happened in here? We saw him kick the door open, but we don’t have cameras inside. And we heard gunshots--”

“Gunshots? Are Tai or Ruby--?”

“They’re in Vale. Even Zwei is in Vale. I have no idea.”

“Is this Blake?” The blue-haired asked, finally turning to them. “I wish we could be meeting under better circumstances. I’m Officer Vasilias, this is Officer Wukong. Or Neptune and Sun, if you’d like.”

“I… I didn’t realize Yang had friends in the police department.” Blake tried to iron out the tremble from her voice. Sun gave her an awkward smile.

“We only joined the force a couple years ago, but… we have a lot of respect for anyone who’s lost a family member in the line of duty. Believe me, this family is _our_ family.”

On any other occasion, Blake probably would have been touched by their dedication, and their loyalty to the sacrifice made by a woman they had never known. For now, though, she was still trying to keep herself under control. Yang drew her back in, and Blake took strength from her innate warmth.

The men went into the house first, guns at the ready. Though they hadn’t seen anyone else enter the house, it didn’t mean that they couldn’t be there. It was a relief when Sun called the all-clear.

At first, nothing seemed amiss. The lights were on, which they hadn’t been before, but the mudroom seemed normal.

Neptune was taking pictures in the living room, and that’s when Blake saw the first sign that someone had been here. On the wall had hung Yang and Ruby’s school pictures. Yang’s senior picture was a couple years outdated, but it had still hung beside Ruby's current photo. It had been a beautiful picture, with Yang’s head tilted coyly, her blonde hair arranged to perfection. Some lighting had caught in Yang’s purple eyes, making them sparkle. 

That picture was now smashed on the floor, glass broken, as if someone had stomped on it.

Blake gripped Yang tightly, but Yang’s jaw was set. 

Neither Taiyang nor Ruby’s room had been touched, but Yang’s room… was bad.

Blake and Yang stared, dumbfounded, at the mess before them. Everything on the dresser and nightstands had been pushed off. Trinkets lay broken on the floor, books and papers in disarray. Some of her scented candles were broken completely, and several of the ones in jars were cracked. Posters had been torn from the wall. Even the blanket and topsheet had been ripped off the bed, as if Adam had wanted to look at where Blake had been sleeping, cuddling, relaxing, loving. Where she had been safe.

Bile rose in Blake’s throat and she swayed. A faint threatened again, but Yang held her upright until the feeling passed.

“Well, at least this solves what he was shooting at,” Neptune commented. He pointed to the wall, where Yang had tacked Ilia’s photo from the farmers’ market, with the two of them locking lips.

One bullet had gone through Yang’s head. The other had gone through Blake’s.

“We’ll need to take pictures, get your statements… this might be a while,” Sun told them apologetically. “Everyone is still trying to sort out that accident. Were they connected to this, do you think?”

“There’s a few people in the White Fang that are good with cars,” Blake told him dully. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they got it to run on its own, or even figured out how to make it hit someone.”

Sun nodded. “It was a head-on collision. It was on the wrong side of the fucking road, high beams on, and nobody was in it. It was pretty spooky.”

Blake shuddered. “Adam wouldn’t have wanted any cops in the way. He wanted to get to me. And now…” She covered her eyes with her hands. She didn’t want this stranger to see her tears. She sensed him move away, to give her privacy, while Yang held her.

The night was long, tedious, and upsetting. The women kept their bodies in close contact the whole time, never leaving each other as they told and retold the series of events. Yang had called Taiyang, who left Vale that minute to join them in the very early hours of the morning. Blake had never been so glad to see him in the entire time she’d known him. He kissed the top of Yang’s head over and over, and her protest had been half-hearted. Yang’s energy was flagging badly. 

“I’m so glad you’re all right!” His hug for Blake had been tight and full of relief. She hugged him back, just as tightly. She was surprised, and touched, at the small peck he placed on her forehead. Family. He _was_ family.

“I can’t… I can’t believe it,” he kept stammering at the cops. When the accident had been somewhat under control, a couple more officers had come to join Sun and Neptune. “How could this happen?!”

Words. It was all only words. They danced across Blake’s consciousness without meaning. Yang had set her on her lap, and they both drifted in and out of sleep on the couch. Despite the noise and bustle, this was a safe sleep. The company they kept made sure of that. 

“Girls,” Taiyang finally said. His voice was low. Blake was aware that some of the lights had been turned out. Yang groaned. “Go to my room. Get some sleep. I’m going to stay up and chat with the officers a bit. Are there any goats in labor?”

“Not when I last checked.” Yang’s voice was groggy. Taiyang nodded.

“Good, good. I’ll check again in a bit. The officers don’t want you to go into your room yet-- they’re doing… cop stuff, I guess. Help yourself to my shirts. You’re covered in straw.”

Earlier that day, they had been complaining about that very thing. Now, it was the furthest from their minds.

“Thanks, Dad,” Yang said, yawning. She sat up, and Blake reluctantly slid off her lap. 

“Thanks, Tai,” Blake echoed in a soft voice.

“Do you mind if I call Ghira? I’m sure he’ll want to know…”

Blake’s eyes widened. She gulped, looked at Yang, then back at Taiyang. On an instinctual level, she didn’t want him to. She didn’t want her parents to worry.

But this night could have easily gone much worse. If Ilia hadn’t called them, she and Yang would have been in the house when Adam came. They wouldn’t have just been terrorized. There wouldn’t have been any police to rescue them.

Those bullets wouldn’t have been wasted on a photo.

“Okay.” Her voice was high-pitched, childlike. Yang squeezed her hand.

Taiyang’s t-shirt was large on Yang, but the one Blake changed into absolutely dwarfed her. Everything about this situation was uncomfortable. The large shirt, the unfamiliar bed, the people she knew were out in the living room and Yang’s room right this minute… but none of it was a match for her exhaustion.

Despite the size of the king-sized bed, Blake and Yang squeezed themselves together as tightly as they could. There was safety in each other’s arms, even if there was none left in the rest of the world. 

“Yang?” Blake asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

“Mmm?”

“Are you scared?” Yang tightened her hold of her by a fraction.

“More than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“I’m so sorry.” Now it _was_ a whisper. “I wish--”

“Please don’t apologize.” Yang rested a finger against Blake’s lips. “You’re always trying to apologize for things that you have no control over.”

“ _Someone_ has to.”

Blake could see Yang shaking her head. “Not your job, baby.”

She closed her eyes, trying not to hear the noises of the police in the house. Their footsteps were loud, but at least they tried to keep their voices down. Yang, however, was silent as she brought her lips to Blake’s. She could sense the reassurances Yang tried to pass to her through that connection, but none of them hit home. Blake’s thoughts had careened off in so many different directions that it gave her a sense of vertigo.

Yang tucked a loose strand of hair behind Blake’s ear as she studied her. “Let me hold you for a little while. Nightmares go away when I do that, right?”

“But this isn’t a nightmare, this is--”

“So? Maybe it’ll still be true.” Yang’s smile was small. At that moment, Blake could see how fragile this confidence was. Blake wouldn’t break it. She wasn’t just offering to comfort Blake. She was trying to comfort herself, too.

“Okay.”

Blake curled into her arms even more securely, molding her body to fit Yang's. If nothing else, there was this. It was meager protection, but it was there, and it assuaged her. Yang's breathing began to lengthen and steady. Blake held her hand.

“I don't know how I ever thought I could live without you,” she said, quietly enough to not wake her.

She was surprised when Yang squeezed her hand back.

“You will never, ever have to.”


	13. Chapter 13

_Adam was standing over her, sword drawn. He made no sound. Blake wondered if time actually stood still, because he wasn’t even breathing. She couldn’t see his eyes behind that mask, but she knew that his gaze was fixed squarely down on her. She was on her back, and she was aware of a burning pain in her side. Her shirt was warm there, and it stuck to her skin. Broken glass reflected fire all around her. Shadows danced in her periphery._

_Was she in hell?_

_She tried to move, but her limbs had frozen. She heard a voice calling her name. Blake’s eyes widened, she could almost hear the winding of the gears in Adam’s mind as he put two and two together. He turned toward the source of the voice._

_“No… don’t…” she begged. Cold fear washed down her body._

_“Get away from her!” Yang’s voice was far too shrill. There was true panic in that tone._

_Time really had slowed. Yang was moving as if she was sprinting, but to Blake, it was as though she were swimming through air. It was agonizingly slow. She had a fist raised as she flew at Adam. He was not slow._

_He was ready._

_He raised his sword._

_She screamed._

She screamed and screamed.

“Holy shit! Blake, are you all right?!” Yang was at attention, arms tight around her before Blake could even put together where she was. She was drenched in perspiration and her breaths came in short gasps.

“He was here!” she finally managed to say, her voice unsteady. “He was here, and he--”

“Shhh.” Yang’s arms were no longer quite so tight, but they were just as protective. Physical and mental exhaustion had Blake sinking into them. “That was days ago. He’s gone now. You're okay, baby. I promise. You're okay.”

That was true. Ilia had texted them the next morning, saying Adam had returned in a foul mood. Sienna had somehow found out about the car accident his followers had caused, and given him a harsh reprimand before other White Fang leaders. Ilia had made sure to give them every detail of his whereabouts that she knew, and the knowledge that he was still hours away was reassuring. For now, he was not on the farm.

In a physical sense, at least.

Most nights, insomnia kept the night terrors away. She spent hours watching the goats on the baby monitor, watching them sleep and the young kids occasionally get up to nurse. The few hours she did manage to sleep each night was unsustainable, but it meant that the nightmares wouldn’t have the opportunity to seed her sleeping mind. That night, her body had given in and drifted off earlier than usual. The dreams returned with a vengeance.

“It felt so real,” she whispered.

But even now, it was fading. Of course it had been a dream. None of that was real, not in Yang’s arms. Even though the silent sobs that now wracked her body were real, the dream itself had not been. Through her tears, she tried to convey to Yang the details in her dream which were even now beginning to flee back into the night.

“He-- he had a _sword_ , of all things, and you were-- no, I was on the ground, but-- but you tried to save me, but he--”

“I’m here now, baby,” Yang murmured. She had somehow eased both of their bodies down into the mattress. “He didn’t do anything to me. We’re safe.”

Still, it took a long time for Blake's sobs to cease, even with the gentle pressure Yang used to rub her back. Dreams where she got hurt was one thing, but ones where Yang got hurt put it on another level entirely. And that dream had been so _vivid_. She pulled a hand back to touch her side, where she could have sworn blood had been pooling. The only thing making her shirt stick to her now was sweat.

“What is it?” Yang asked. Blake shook her head.

“Just… making sure it… wasn’t real.” The words wouldn’t have made sense, but Yang gave her a small nod anyway. She put her own hand there, calloused and warm. The touch was steady and Blake made a small sigh of relief. Yang’s hand was more convincing than her own. She truly was okay.

Neither of them fell back to sleep after that. Blake didn’t dare. She wanted to ask Yang why _she_ wasn't going back to sleep, but words failed her. Silence was more comfortable. It was safer. Occasionally, Yang would interrupt it with a small, reassuring kiss. Each one gave Blake a little more relief, a little bit more of an anchor to reality. So, too, did Yang’s fingers on her back, caressing her so lightly that Blake almost didn’t feel it at times.

They had changed rooms after the events of that awful night. Both of them had been too unnerved and violated to stay in Yang’s for any length of time, so Taiyang had graciously allowed them to move to his room until he came back at the end of the semester. In time, the bullet holes would be covered and the candles in Yang’s room would be replaced. They had cleaned the broken things, but none of it had restored their peace of mind.

All Blake could picture was how Adam must have looked when he trashed Yang’s room. What had been going through his mind as he tore her posters from the wall? Had he gone in there with the intent to scare them? Probably not, she thought. He would have killed them if he could. Not finding what he was looking for, he needed to vent his anger in some way.

Thinking about Adam ripping the blankets off the bed made her feel sick. She knew what he was probably thinking, and imagining the look on his face made her want to vomit. She wasn’t allowed to touch anyone but him, he’d warned her before. She’d been backhanded for doing just that on accident. This… this was beyond. Was that what had caused him to shoot the photo?

Blake decided it was better not to think about it.

Taiyang hadn’t wanted either of them to stay on the farm after that. He and Yang had argued about it the next day. If they were at Signal, he told them, they’d be safe. Yang had countered, asking who would stay with the goats? And it wasn’t like they could hide in Signal forever. Adam would be clever enough to find them eventually. And then what?

Ghira had nearly booked them tickets to Menagerie that very day, but the same argument stood. After seeing what Adam had gone through to try and get them alone, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to come up with a new plan, wherever they ran.

At least on the farm, they knew the territory. They had security cameras. They had Ilia to keep tabs on Adam. The police checked in with them regularly. Short of barricading themselves in a bunker for the rest of their lives, there was little else they could do that could keep them safer than this.

So they settled into a new, wary life. It was so similar to their old one. Caring for animals, baking bread, tending to the greenhouse. Only in this reality, not only did each of them keep one of Raven’s knives handy, but Yang carried a gun at her hip. They always looked over their shoulders.

They were still awake when morning came. There were weary lines on Yang’s face, but they didn’t seem to affect her as she sat up. As she stretched, she turned her eyes to Blake. 

“Are you doing all right?” she asked softly. Blake nodded.

“Yeah. I’m s--”

“Don’t. Please, babe. Hearing you apologize breaks my heart.”

Blake closed her mouth. What else was she supposed to say?

Instead, Yang reached a hand to Blake’s cheek, cupping it in her hand. Blake closed her eyes, tilting her head into the touch. All she wanted to say were apologies. For the night before, for Adam, for all the trouble she had carried with her to the farm. She didn’t know what other words she could possibly give Yang. She was a slave to apologies. There was no way to break free.

Except through Yang’s lips. All the apologies she wanted to articulate were instead soaked up by those lips. Her entire soul leaked out of her, but Yang was there to receive it all. 

Blake was crying again, and this time, Yang was, too.

Breakfast was a somber affair. Yang kept making weak jokes, stretching for puns, and Blake forced herself to laugh at all of them. If she could laugh enough, maybe the rest of her would believe it. She didn't want to be trapped in this shadow Adam had shoved her back into.

Oddly enough, Fucking Rhonda was the one who got her out.

“All girls!” Yang laughing. It wasn't those uncomfortable trying-too-hard laughs, but an honest, refreshing laugh. It was the most beautiful sound Blake had heard in days.

“How did she have that many fit inside her?!” Blake asked, staring at all the kids in shock. Five. There were five babies.

“We’ve literally only had quints one other time. Having them all be girls… We need to get a lottery ticket or something, Belladonna.” Dramatically, Yang pulled Blake over, leaned her back, and gave her a noisy smooch. Blake snorted. “ _That_ was unattractive!” Yang complained. “God, I thought you were a lady.”

She pulled Blake back up, eyes full of mischief. There had been no kiddings since Taiyang had been there. He had delivered a set of twins alone, which Yang had been furious about. It had been a textbook birth, and he wanted them to get some rest that morning after the invasion. He didn’t even tell them until after it had happened. Strangely, Blake had been bummed to miss the birth. A little bit of joy might have offset the horror of the night before.

But this birth made up for it.

Rhonda had kidded easily, and none of the kids seemed worse for wear, despite the cramped quarters they’d been living in. There was a runt, and Yang said that the kids would probably need supplemental bottles, but the fact that they were all healthy and strong was enough cause for celebration.

When Yang released Blake, she made a noise at the amniotic fluid and blood that Yang had somehow wiped on her shirt.

“And you complain about _me_ not being a lady, ” Blake told her, pulling at a stained spot in distaste. Yang grinned.

“I never said _I_ was a lady.” Yang knelt back down into the straw, where she grabbed one of the new doelings. All five were very small, though the runt was the smallest goat Blake had ever seen. She bent down to pick her up, cradling her in her hands. She was still wet, but Blake could make out plenty of black splotches layered on top of reddish fur. She’d be a beauty. 

Just like that, a lightness returned to Blake’s heart. There was ugliness outside, but there was still so much joy in _here_.

Yang was watching her, a smile playing on her lips. “You’re a natural with these guys. Did you know that?”

Blake blushed as she rubbed at the runt’s tiny, warm body. The kid made a squeaking noise at this brand new sensation. “I never really thought that.”

“Well, _I’ve_ thought that.” She set her own kid down and stretched her legs out before her. “Seriously. You’ve caught on really quickly, and you’ve never been squeamish about any of it. You’re a natural.”

Blake allowed herself a small smile as she sat down beside Yang. She cuddled the tiny goat against her chest, and Yang wrapped her arm around them. When there were no nightmares haunting her subconscious, leaning against Yang like this was quite peaceful.

So things got better. Minute by minute, day by day, Blake’s body remembered where she was, that she wasn’t in a place of stress or anxiety. There was routine, there were baby goats to feed and cuddle, and most importantly, there was Yang. Through all of it, Yang was always there.

“How ‘bout a double date tomorrow night?” she asked one evening. Yang was already in her pajamas, laying upside-down on the couch, her long legs draped over the back of it. Her head dangled off the cushions, hair brushing the floor. She’d been flipping through a seed catalog while Blake had curled up in the corner, attempting to read a book while trying not to stare at Yang’s angled body for too long.

“What?”

“Nora keeps texting me. She thinks we should all go bowling.”

“Don’t we have the market tomorrow?”

Yang shook her head. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I talked with Dad about it this afternoon. Now that we don’t have as much to sell, there’s no point in going to the market until we’ve got cheese and veggies again. We usually take a break this time of year, anyway. We'd hardly break even on gas alone.”

“So… bowling?”

Yang looked up, and Blake turned her head back to her book a little too quickly, cheeks hot. 

“There’s an itty bitty bowling alley a couple towns over. Like… there’s only a few lanes, and it’s only open on weekends, but it’s nice! I haven’t kicked Nora’s ass there in ages.”

“Why? Has she been kicking _your_ ass all this time?”

“Watch it, or I’ll kick yours.” Yang swung one of her feet to bop Blake on the head.

“Wrong end.”

“That’s just a taste of what you’re asking for!” Yang opened her seed catalog again. “You can think about it. I need to look through this. You can get back to _pretending_ to read.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Please. You haven’t turned a damn page in twenty minutes,” Yang said with a smirk. Blake raised her book to hide the redness in her cheeks. Though she couldn’t see it now, she heard Yang turn a page. “Maybe I should talk to Dad about expanding the orchard. Maybe get some pears, or plums or something. We should probably _branch_ out.”

“If you do that again, you’re sleeping with the goats tonight.”

“That would be _udder_ ly cruel.”

Blake closed her book and gave Yang a light whack on the leg with it. “I mean it.” Yang gave an annoyed squawk and pulled herself upright onto the cushion. She stuck a tongue out at Blake. “I’m not going to warn you again,” she added, trying not to smile. She needed to look _stern_ , but Yang made that so hard.

“I know you like it.” Yang’s voice was low, teasing. She tossed the seed catalog onto the coffee table, then pulled Blake over to her.

“Absolutely not.” Despite her words, Blake was smiling as she allowed Yang to hold her close. “I don’t even know why I keep you around sometimes.”

“Oh, I know. You made that _very_ clear this morning.” How could Yang make smugness look so charming? Blake poked her in the side.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Only ‘cause your mouth was a little… preoccupied?”

True laughter was still scarce these days, but Yang managed to draw it out of her. Blake noticed a glint of triumph in those lilac eyes as laughter bubbled out of her.

“It’s so good to hear you laugh.” Yang wrapped her arms around her. “I haven’t heard it enough lately.”

The embrace was automatic. She sighed, closing her eyes blissfully as Yang lowered her head to nuzzle her face into Blake's stomach. She tangled her fingers in Yang's soft hair. She felt an odd surge of pride of her own. Even though Adam had been here, even though he tried to steal their sense of security, he had failed. All the security she needed was right here.

The next day, she gave in to the idea of a double date. They checked on the quints one more time, then loaded into the truck. Though the bowling alley had food, Yang warned her that it was greasy and overpriced, so they decided to go out for dinner afterwards. There weren’t many places to choose from, but Nora decided for all of them that they’d get pizza.

“Which is going to be even greasier than the shit at the bowling alley,” Yang complained on the ride over. “It _is_ good, though.”

“I’m down for it.”

“No anchovies allowed, though, let’s just make that clear right now”

“You’re such a bitch.” Blake smiled despite her words. Yang grinned.

Ren and Nora were already there by the time they pulled up. Nora hopped around excitedly, waving at the truck. They’d seen her on their occasional trip to the diner, and Blake was a little concerned about spending an evening with her and all her energy. Ren, at least, seemed to act like a normal person. He gave them a pleasant nod as they hopped out of the truck.

“God, Yang, don’t you own any _nice_ clothes?!” Nora immediately grumbled.

“Good to see you, too, Nora,” Yang replied, rolling her eyes. “And flannel _is_ nice. We’re only at the bowling alley, for Christ’s sake.”

“Yes, but it’s a _date_!” Nora eyed Blake up and down, as if trying to decide if it would be offensive to make similar jabs at someone she hardly knew. “Good to see ya, Blake! You look nice.”

Blake’s amber eyes flickered over to Yang in amusement. A ratty-looking purple sweater and jeans could hardly be considered _nice_ , but at least she didn’t have to defend it. Nora seemed to have come to the decision to continue giving Yang hell about the flannel, and she wasn’t letting up on it.

“On the farm, sure, it’s fine, but Yang... No offense, but you look like your dad.”

“This was his shirt, actually.”

“I rest my case.”

Blake hadn’t been bowling since she was a kid. She forgot how gross bowling shoes were, and Yang caught the look she made as she took her pair from the counter. Yang cracked up.

“You act like you’ve never been bowling before!” Yang commented as she led Blake to their lane. Blake shrugged.

“Well, it’s been a long time.”

Yang narrowed her eyes. “How long?”

“Since I lived at home.”

Nora cackled and Yang let out a long string of colorful language.

“There are children present,” Ren said, jutting his head to the kids on the neighboring lane. Yang blew her lips in frustration.

“Why?” Blake asked, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“Because we decided that whoever loses has to buy dinner. And if you haven’t practiced in a while…” Nora let the sentence hang.

“Seriously? Yang, you’re making bets on my bowling skills without even seeing how I was?”

“I had all this faith in you!” Yang lay the back of her hand across her forehead in mock sorrow. “And here you go, dashing my dreams!”

“You deserve to have your dreams dashed for making bets like that.”

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” Ren remarked with a shrug. Nora laughed again.

In retaliation, Yang punched Blake’s name in on the monitor as LOSER. Blake pushed Yang away long enough to type BIGGERLOSER. 

“How romantic,” Nora commented, pulling a face. “You guys were practically _made_ for each other.”

At this, Yang gave Blake a quick wink. 

Just as predicted, Blake turned out to be a terrible bowler. Yang’s protests got louder and louder with each new gutterball. Nora, too, got louder, only with victory.

“There’s just something I like about you, Blake!” she said during the second round. Yang huffed as she sent her on ball smoothly down the lane, earning them a spare.

“Maybe we should use the bumpers,” she suggested. Nora’s eyes blazed.

“That’s cheating!”

“Even though _we_ might benefit, too?” Ren asked.

“We don’t need ‘em!” When the pins reset, Nora moved to prove her point. She hefted her ball and swung it back. She was too focused to notice Yang creep up behind her. Right before she let go, she poked Nora in the ribs. She screeched in fury as the ball loosed directly into the gutter.

“That was dirty, Xiao Long!” she bellowed. “Now you owe me dinner just for being a big jerk!”

“You gonna let her insult your girlfriend, Belladonna?” Yang called. “She just called me a jerk!”

“A _big_ jerk!”

It was too much. Blake was laughing, doubled over in her chair. None of the sounds coming out of her could be considered polite, so she was relieved to hear Yang joining in. Nora decided this was a safer time to knock some pins down, but Yang had already come back to sit beside Blake. She felt her hand grip her thigh lightly. Blake put her hand on top of Yang's.

The next time she was up to bowl, Yang came up behind her. “Are you gonna poke me, too?” Blake asked dryly.

“Are you kidding? We have a game to win.”

Yang’s arms went around her waist. She tried to advise Blake how she might release the ball in a straight line, but Blake couldn’t translate theory to action. Yang took the ball and tried to demonstrate, but she was using such obvious innuendo with the way she maneuvered her fingers around the holes that Nora groaned. Ren covered his eyes.

“C’mon,” Yang said, “I know you can move your hand better than--”

“Think of the children,” Ren said, shaking his head.

“You’re so gross, Yang,” Nora added. This only encouraged her, and she wiggled her fingers again. Nora put her head in her hands.

Apparently, that was all Yang had been waited for. Too quickly for Blake to say anything, Yang grabbed the ball and sent it down the lane for her. It wasn’t a strike, but it was close. It was definitely more pins than Blake had managed on her own so far that whole night. She gave Blake a wink.

“See? All Blake needed was a little help!” Yang told them when the other two lifted their heads up at the sound of pins being hit. Not that Nora believed this. Her shrill accusations of cheating had the people in neighboring lanes looking over. 

Blake found that the more she laughed that night, the more easily her body surrendered to it. Hot pricks in her eyes meant that it was even bringing her to tears. Laughing this much was like being drunk. She certainly _felt_ drunk. It was infinitely better than most of the emotions she’d felt that week. She felt Yang’s arms around her shoulders and a swift, wonderfully tender peck on her cheek. 

Though Blake’s technique improved over the two games they played, Ren and Nora still won by a wide margin. Yang had to threaten Nora after her incessant bragging over the win (“We just won’t go to dinner if you don’t shut your damn mouth!”), but in the end, all four of them ended up at the little pizza place.

“It tastes like victory!” Nora couldn’t resist saying after her first bite.

“Hold me back, Blake, I’m going for blood!” Yang said, shaking a fist. Blake put a token hand on Yang’s arm and gave Ren a hopeless shrug.

Under less competitive circumstances, Blake was actually able to enjoy her conversation with the pair. Learning about the history of the diner was fascinating. Ren’s great-grandfather had started it back when the town hardly had any people living there, and it had mostly catered to passing travelers. As the town grew, the diner passed from generation to generation. 

“We have copies of all the old menus, even from the beginning, hidden in box somewhere,” Ren told her with a small, proud smile. “It’s pretty interesting to see how different things were back then.”

“But pie has always been on the menu,” Nora made sure to point out. She was putting away her third slice of pizza. “I’ve been working there since I was old enough. I had to move in with my aunt and uncle after my parents died, but Ren hooked me up with a job.” Her smile took on a gentler quality that looked so unlike her, but was oddly endearing. “I got bullied a little bit when I moved out here, but he stood up for me. He was my first friend here.”

“That’s so sweet.” Blake looked from one to the other. She would never have pegged them to be the type that would be together, but they made it work. She wondered if her own relationship looked the same way to outsiders.

Yang had been quiet for much of this talk. When Blake looked over at her, she was staring at the wall with a foggy look on her face. She hadn’t even finished her first slice of pizza.

“You okay?” she asked, putting a hand on Yang’s knee. She came back to life, her eyes sliding back over to Blake.

“Yeah. I’ve just heard this story a hundred times already.”

“Then why didn’t you already tell her?” Nora asked playfully. 

“It’s not my story to tell, dumbass.”

Though she participated in the conversation a little more, Blake noticed that Yang kept looking at her phone throughout the evening. It made her frown a little. It wasn’t like her to be so disengaged. Ren and Nora kept her so busy with conversation, however, that Blake couldn’t address it without being rude herself. So for now, she left it alone.

It was strange, but wonderful, to spend casual time with other people. While in the White Fang, things couldn’t be carefree. Even if Adam hadn’t kept track of her every move, most members had been too serious. There was no bowling. There were no board games. There had always been an undercurrent of anxiety that kept them from letting themselves go too much. There was no time to sit back, relax, and socialize. It was all business. Spending this time with Ren and Nora was how human interaction was _supposed_ to be.

But it was still exhausting.

Blake was a bit relieved when they drove off in Nora’s little hybrid. She waved a hand through the steam of her exhales as they left. She could make out the faint motion of Nora’s hand waving in reply, and then they were gone.

It was colder now, and Blake wished she hadn’t left her jacket in the truck. Just outside the driver’s side door, Yang stopped to look up at the sky. On a clear night like this, with few streetlights, it looked as though the heavens were raining down upon them.

“I never get to see so many stars,” Blake said as she joined her. “We were always in big cities, and it’s never like this.”

“I’ll have to teach you all the constellations, then.” Yang’s smile was subdued. “We’ll count the stars together.”

“Won’t that take, like… forever?”

“Exactly.”

Blake threaded her arm through Yang’s. Close to her, the cold air wasn’t so bad. Yang looked down at her, and Blake knew there was something Yang hadn’t told her. Her heart fell.

“What is it?” she asked. Yang moved her own arm around Blake’s waist.

“Ilia texted me during dinner.”

“And?” Blake dreaded the answer. Yang looked back up at the sky.

“She hasn’t seen Adam personally for a couple days now. She wasn’t worried at first, since she usually hears what he’s doing through the grapevine. But now it looks like nobody else has seen him, either, and people are starting to gossip about it.”

“What are you saying?” The words tasted sour in Blake’s mouth.

“He’s just… vanished. He up and left. Nobody knows where he is. His car’s gone and his apartment’s empty.” Yang’s grip around her waist was tighter now, as if she was afraid to let go.

“So that means we need to be ready,” Blake replied softly. She lay her head against Yang.

“I just hate the uncertainty. I think… the anticipation is the worst of this. If he was here, at least I could do something. I just hate feeling so…” She frowned, trying to grapple for the right word.

“Helpless?” Blake wrapped her arms around Yang’s middle. “I know exactly what you mean.”

They fell silent. They watched the stars above them while Blake drank in Yang’s warmth. Staying out here forever to count the stars didn’t seem like such a bad idea. They’d be lost in their own world, away from everything else on this earth that could destroy their peace. The vast emptiness of space meant nothing when someone you loved was at your side, giving you their heat. Stars were like that. They emitted so much heat in the darkness that they caught fire and shone. If _they_ could do that, even just a little…

“I just want you to know that I love you,” Yang said, her voice somewhat rough. “For real. Whatever happens.”

“Even if we get old and get wrinkly?” Blake tried to keep her tone light. She didn’t want to hear what Yang was really saying. _In case either of them didn’t make it_ …

“Especially then. You’d look cute with wrinkles.”

“You say that now.” Blake inhaled, the freezing air sharp in her nose. She paused. “I love you, too,” she said softly. With a weak laugh, she added, “I didn’t know it was possible to love another person this much.”

She wished her heart didn’t feel so heavy as she said that. It was like they were saying goodbye. 

No. It _wasn’t_ a goodbye. It was like a last will and testament. And like a last will and testament, she hoped she wouldn’t need for a very long time.

Yang’s lips on hers were warm, soft. Blake closed her eyes, basking in her starlight, lost in space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time I post, I'll be dropping the final chapter and epilogue at the same time, so there might be a little more of a wait. I can't believe this is the home stretch. :(
> 
> Thank you explosivesky/twelveclara for the advice during a mild writing crisis!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violence (I tried not to be excessive). Minor character death.
> 
> Trust me, fam. <3

Something about the first snowfall of the year always seemed so pure. The fat snowflakes that floated to earth were never as depressing as they would be as winter dragged on. The first snow was always special. It was perfect weather for snuggling under Taiyang’s down comforter and enjoying the view from the safety and warmth of the bed. It wasn’t a storm. There was little stress associated with this snowfall. 

“It’s like Christmas,” Yang remarked dreamily. 

Blake couldn’t really say the same. In the White Fang, they couldn’t afford to waste much time on holidays. Her happiest Christmases had been in Menagerie, where there was no snow at all. Yet seeing Yang’s joy, Blake could almost sense what a white Christmas might be like.

The snow had stopped by the next morning. There wasn’t enough to _really_ shovel, but Yang insisted on scraping out pathways. “It’ll be a guide when we actually do have a lot of snow,” she told Blake. “And I don’t want it melting into ice right before a snowstorm. I’ve slipped and fallen on my ass enough _without_ ice, thank you.”

Blake still didn’t see the point, but she humored Yang that morning. Before they shoveled, they fed the animals, none of whom felt like being outside in the snow. There was a confusing moment where they couldn’t find a pair of gloves Yang thought she’d left in the barn, but in the end, she decided not to use them at all. She was warm enough as it was, she claimed. They’d find her gloves another day.

They went from house to farmstand to barn to greenhouse with their plastic snow shovels, making neat walkways that could easily be cleared if more snow fell. Outside the barn, she’d seen a couple of large, stray boot prints in the snow where Yang must have stepped outside the path, but Blake tried to keep her own feet out of the way. It looked _neater_ that way. By the time they finished at the greenhouse, she was warm enough to take her jacket off. Yang did the same, dropping it to the ground and plopping down on top of it.

So Blake sat beside her, and of course they sat close together, and of course, it progressed to making out. And of course they couldn’t stop, not after that. 

It wasn’t like they were living every day as their last. It wasn’t about that, not really.

“I’m really going to miss doing this when Dad comes home,” Yang huffed as she sat herself up. She brushed a lock of hair from Blake’s sweaty forehead. She was still laying on their jackets, unable to bring herself to move. One of her cat ears twitched, as if reacting to some noise she hadn’t consciously noticed. She dismissed the notion. All she could hear was their own heavy breathing.

“I’m sure we’ll still get to do this,” she replied with a small laugh. “We just need to be careful.” 

“That’s what I mean. I’m going to miss the spontaneity.” Yang breathed out a long sigh, then reached for her bra. “ _And_ you’re going to have to work on turning your volume down, babe!”

Yang tried to choke back a laugh while Blake covered her face with her hands. “I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

“Are you kidding? It was totally hot. And adorable. It meant I was doing something right, eh?”

They both burst out laughing. “Don’t get up yet,” Blake finally said. “Just lay down with me for a while.”

Truthfully, she didn’t feel like she was physically capable of getting up yet, so she was glad when Yang dropped her bra back onto the ground. She curled up against Yang’s side, relishing the last few sensitive twinges her body was making. Yang snaked an arm around her waist to draw her in for a kiss. It was a gentler kiss than they had just been exchanging minutes before, but it was just what Blake needed. She made a small contented noise that made Yang grin.

She pulled away from Blake long enough to mutter, “You and the sound effects today.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

They had to get up eventually. Even though it was winter, there was still plenty of farm chores that needed to be done. They’d done their best to avoid getting covered in dirt on the greenhouse floor, but they were still left with smears of it on themselves, especially since they were so sweaty. The greenhouse was made to trap humidity, so dirt was the price of love, Blake supposed, reaching for her shirt. Yang stopped her, grabbing her by the wrist to kiss her again.

“Yang,” she protested, giving her a playful shove, “We need to get back to work.”

“Boo.” Yang didn’t let go and made no sign of getting up. Blake chuckled.

“Do you even want me to get my clothes back on?”

“Not particularly.”

So she didn’t. They _would_ get up eventually… But not yet.

Despite the hard work, and bliss, of the day, sleep was still hard to find that night. Yang crashed easily enough, so for a while, Blake just watched her sleep. Her whole heart, her whole body, felt full. All the poetry she’d read in her life, all those romantic metaphors, at last made sense. When she looked at Yang like this, she knew that _this_ was what love was like. _This_ was what it felt to have love running through the marrow of your bones. No fear, no shame, no anxiety could hold a candle to this.

She rolled over, nestling into the shelter of Yang’s body as she looked first out the window-- it was snowing again-- and then to the baby monitor. Though the goats had finished kidding, they left the monitor on to keep an eye on them at night. Blake found it soothing to watch the goats during her periods of insomnia. Most of them slept during that time, but the kids would periodically get up to nurse. They might hop around, as if they didn’t realize it was the middle of the night, but they would figure out soon enough that there was nobody awake to play with.

Next week, they’d start milking the goats. Yang had taught her all about the milking machines, but Blake had yet to see it in action. They would start off with only the goats who had kidded first, but in a few weeks time, they’d be milking the herd. By then, Taiyang and Ruby would at least be home to help with the transition. Farm life always went on, as Yang would say.

Blake scowled at the baby monitor. It was on, but the screen was dark. This wasn’t the first time the camera had fallen off its precarious perch on the stall door. Yang kept saying they’d switch to a mounted camera eventually, but it was one of those things Taiyang had never gotten around to doing. 

She considered for a moment. The goats would be fine till morning… but what if one of the youngest kids chose that moment to get itself into trouble? What if a doe accidentally squashed a baby during this time? The insomnia wasn’t helping her paranoia, and part of her just wanted to fix the camera so it would lull her to sleep. 

It wasn’t like she was doing anything right now, she thought. Might as well fix it.

Trying not to disturb Yang’s sleeping form, Blake slid out from under the covers and found her sweatshirt. Out of habit, she looped her belt around her waist. It had Raven’s knife attached to it, and even though she’d probably never use it, it felt better to have it at her side.

“Where’re you going?” Yang asked sleepily.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. The camera in the goat stall fell down. I’m going to fix it.”

“It’s the middle of the night.” To illustrate her point, Yang yawned.

“Can’t sleep anyway. I might as well be useful.”

“Just don’t be long. I don’t think I know how to sleep by myself anymore.” Through half-lidded eyes, Yang gave her a somewhat dopey smile.

“So needy.” Blake bent over to give Yang a light kiss. “I won’t be long. Unless there’s a goat that needs snuggling.”

Yang snorted. “No goat can be a better snuggler than me.”

“Maybe. But they’re a lot cuter.”

Yang grabbed Blake’s pillow and made a half-hearted throw at her. “Ungrateful wench.”

“Yeah, but I’m _your_ ungrateful wench.”

“Damn straight, Belladonna.” Yang flopped back onto her own pillow.

“I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.” Blake looked down at her with a fond smile. “You’ll be snoring, with or without me.”

“I don’t snore.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” Blake couldn’t resist giving her one more kiss. “Be right back.”

Jacket and boots on, Blake stepped into the cold night air. She thought about going back in for a scarf and a hat, but decided against it. She’d be so quick that none of that would be worth it. She walked quickly to the barn, hands jammed into her pockets. Already, the pathway they had scraped this morning was layered with fresh snow. Maybe Yang’s idea to shovel ahead of the snow wasn’t such a bad one. It would definitely mean a lot less heavy lifting with each new layer.

She flicked the lights on and shook herself. Though the vast empty space of the barn proper wasn’t terribly warm, being out of the wind was nice enough. She walked to where the large goat stall was. Many of them were standing up, looking at her expectantly. Most of the babies were still sleeping, but a couple of the goats bleated at her.

“What’s up, girls?” Blake asked in a soft voice, taking her jacket off. It was warm enough in the goat area that the jacket over her sweatshirt was too much “You know it’s the middle of the night, right?”

Pam made a loud _mahhh_ and Blake smiled. Going in to give them some love was tempting, but she was eager to get back to Yang and the warmth under the blankets. She looked over the stall, trying to find the small wireless camera that relayed to the baby monitor, but to her surprise, it wasn’t there. She frowned, and checked both sides of the stall door. Had Yang moved it without telling her?

With her luck, one of the goats had thought it was food and had moved it somewhere while investigating. Blake sighed. “Did one of you guys steal the camera?”

She looked one more time, but to no avail. They’d check tomorrow. Blake wasn’t in the mood to root around every part of the stall. She’d just have to spend a night without watching the goats. As she turned around, she froze. The lights in the main part of the barn were off. 

Was it a power outage? She walked slowly, looking around. The tractor looked almost menacing in the dark. Unnerved, she scanned the barn. The moonlight, and her own sharp eyesight, was what made her see him. 

“Are you looking for this?”

Blake’s heart fell through her stomach. It was like in her nightmares, when time had stood still.

Adam stood against the hayloft ladder, tossing something up and down in one hand.

And just like in her nightmares, Blake couldn’t move.

“I was wondering which one of you would come out, or how long it would take. To be honest, I was sort of hoping your _girlfriend_ would come first, but I’m not complaining.” He strode closer, continuing to toss the camera in one hand. “Not that she’s your _girlfriend_. She can’t be when you’re _mine_.”

“Adam… please, leave us alone.” Blake wished her voice didn’t sound so small, so weak. Adam chuckled. As he got closer, she could make out the small details on his mask, the delicate red designs that made him look like the monster he was.

“Isn’t that what you did to me, Blake?” How could she have forgotten how chilling his voice was? Had her weeks with Yang really made her forget? “I would _never_ be so cruel.”

Blake was moving again. Backing up. “You’re calling me the cruel one?” she asked, disbelieving. “Adam, you tried to _kill me_.”

“If I had wanted to kill you, you’d be dead now.”

She didn’t know how to reach for the phone in her back pocket without drawing attention to it. Though she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew they never left her. She could only imagine that they were drinking in her fear, her panic. They were eating her alive.

He stopped beside a grain bin. He set the camera on top of it, focusing it at her. “Is this, like, a webcam or something?” he asked, almost conversationally. “Does it have audio?”

Blake said nothing. She tried to understand what he was getting at, but her brain, her _stupid_ brain, was having difficulty sorting one thought from another.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter. She’ll hear eventually.”

Blake’s eyes widened. Her back was to the wall, and there was no way to outrun him here. She wracked her brain, trying to think if she could get to any of the other exits. Even if it was only long enough to call the cops, she _needed_ to figure something out.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, trying to stall for time. He shook his head.

“I don’t want you to die, my love,” he told her. Despite the gentle lilt to his voice, he sounded cold. “Not until you hurt in the same way you hurt me.”

She braced herself as he stepped closer to her. He was too close. She hated the way she cringed away from him, but he smirked.

“See? You knew better, but you ran anyway. You’ve always been that way. That’s why you’ve always needed correction.”

Without warning, he slapped her. Blake gasped, clutching her cheek. While she was frozen with both surprise and fear, he pulled his mask away to drop it onto the floor.

“So many people in life have hurt me, Blake,” he went on, as if he’d never slapped her. “But none of them hurt me quite like you.”

She could see his eyes now. The one blue human eye was bright with fury. The other one, as always, was too dead to read.

“Not even this,” he added quietly, pointing a finger at the red eye, at the brand, “came close to you leaving me alone, Blake.”

He was too close for her to reach for her phone or for Raven’s knife. If she could just break free somehow…

Something sharp buried itself in her side.

Blake let out a small scream, sinking slightly as Adam drew a knife out of her. She hadn’t even noticed him grab it.

“You’ll need to be a little louder than that, my love. What happened to that teamwork we used to be so good at?”

It dawned on her what he was doing.

“Adam, stop, you need to--”

He grabbed her wrist, hard. “You know better than to ever tell me what to do.” There was a trace of emotion at last in that voice. Rage. “I taught you better than that.”

She tried to pull her hand away, but he forced it up between them. With horror, she could only watch as he ran a finger over the tips of Blake’s own. She knew Adam well enough-- from her own experience and from what she had gleaned from the pictures of the dead men-- that she had an idea of what he was going to do. It wasn’t even necessarily physical pain he wanted to inflict right now.

Adam just wanted her to scream.

When he snapped her pinky back, Blake bit her tongue so hard that she could taste the iron of her own blood. An agonized, muffled noise came out and light danced before her eyes, but she had suppressed a true scream. Adam tutted.

“You’re only making this harder on yourself,” he remarked. “I’ll break every last finger in both hands. I know what you’ve been doing with them. It’s no less than what they deserve. Then... I’ll break your wrists. Then your arms, until there’s not a part of you left unbroken.” He paused. “But we don’t have to do that. All I want right now is for you to wake your _girlfriend_ up.”

As she had seen in those photos, Adam knew torture. She had counted on him using it against her if given the chance. What she hadn’t counted on was the mental anguish his words caused as he continued to speak.

“Hopefully, she'll hear you over this camera. If not, I’ll have you screaming loud enough to wake her up from the other side of this fucking farm.” His breathing was a little heavier now, anticipatory. “Because, you see, Blake… I don’t want to kill you. Not until you’ve seen everything you love _die_.”

She was so distracted through pain, through his visions of torment, that she didn’t have time to prepare herself. When he broke her ring finger, she _did_ scream.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” When she blinked the bright lights from her eyes, Blake saw a look of satisfaction cross his face.

“She’s… going to… call the police,” she said, chest heaving. Her body felt hot. Beads of sweat gathered on her, soaking her shirt. And there was blood, too, she thought distantly. Sweat and blood. The pain in her side was still there, but it had been overshadowed by the quick violent pain in her broken fingers. She felt dizzy.

“We’ll be finished long before they get here,” Adam assured her. “We’ll be long gone by then.” 

She didn’t know if it was because of the pain or her own fear, but Blake felt overwhelmed by nausea. She started to gag, but Adam slapped her.

“That’s enough of that. You’re only doing this to yourself, Blake.” He looked down at her side, at the blood that was starting to seep into her sweatshirt. Even with his mask off, it was hard to interpret the expression there. All she could see was focus, almost as if he were mesmerized by the sight of her blood.

But it hadn’t made her scream enough.

For good measure, he broke her middle finger. It was so sudden, so agonizing, that she nearly passed out mid-scream. She swayed, but Adam pushed her against the wall hard enough to keep her upright.

“Now, now, my love, I need you awake,” he told her, his voice eerily patient. “I want you awake to watch what I do to _her_. If she really _has_ called the police, I can’t draw this out too long… but she’ll regret every moment you stayed here, every kiss she _stole_ , every time she _fucked_ you. She’ll be begging to die by the time I’m through with her.”

Tears were stinging Blake’s eyes. Terror had swallowed her completely, almost-but-not-quite distracting her from the physical pain. She had no idea what to do. Was this what it was like to drown?

Footsteps, coming at a run.

“No,” she moaned.

Adam jerked Blake around, holding her in front of him like a ragdoll and pressing a knife to her throat. The quick movements _hurt_ , and she gave a small cry.

Yang stood motionless in the doorway, handgun pointed at them, Raven’s knife under her arm. Her crimson eyes went wide when they saw Blake. She could see the thoughts racing through Yang’s head. She couldn’t shoot Adam now, not with her right here. 

Oddly, the one detail that stuck out for her was _where were Yang’s shoes_? Yang didn’t even have a jacket on, only the tank top she’d slept in. On her feet, all she had were flip-flops. 

It was so cold. Yang’s feet would freeze.

“Let her go now or I’ll shoot.” Yang’s voice was low, but it betrayed a shake. Fear had come for Yang, too.

“I don’t think you will,” Adam replied. He pressed his bloodied knife even deeper to Blake’s throat. It would leave a mark. “You don’t want to shoot your… _girlfriend_ , do you?” He shook his head with such aggression that it shook Blake a little, as well. Her broken fingers and her bleeding side throbbed with pain of the motion.

“I should have known a human wouldn’t respect the relationship that two Faunus share,” he went on. Blake could only watch as Yang’s eyes went back and forth between her and Adam, trying to figure out a target, or, at the very least, a way to separate them. “And somehow, you got Blake to disrespect it, too.”

He rested a hand on her stomach, still never moving the knife from her throat. His touch felt slimy. Her mind kept screaming, _Violation! Violation!_ , but she was unable to move. His arms around her made her feel sick.

“I heard you out in the greenhouse today,” he added. He shook his head in revulsion. “That was disgusting. You sounded like a slut, Blake.”

He squeezed her. Blake gasped as the pain in her side rippled through her body. 

“ _Get away from her!_ ” Yang bellowed, training her gun on Adam. This was what Yang had shouted in her nightmares, she realized numbly. It was all coming true. Nightmares were real. In nightmares, there was no happy ending. Blake knew this wasn’t going to be a good shot. She closed her eyes to prepare for the worst.

She didn’t expect Adam to throw her onto the ground.

It all happened so quickly that it was hard for Blake’s pain-addled mind to keep up. She howled in pain as she landed on her broken fingers. She saw spots.

But she couldn’t black out. Not now.

When she looked up, eyes fighting the darkness that tried to pull her in, Adam was moving too quickly for Yang to shoot. She tried anyway. She fired twice, each one missing widely. Adam had the advantage and he knew it. He lunged. Yang pulled the gun just out of his reach, but he seized that opportunity to swing his knife at her. She jumped back, of the way, but it cost her the gun when he swiped at her hand. So, too, did the knife fall. He grabbed her right arm and snapped her around.

Yang let out a bloodcurdling scream as he jerked her arm back. Her arm bent at an impossible angle and Yang sprawled facedown.

“ _No!_ ” Blake screamed. Adam slid a boot under her stomach and flipped her over. Yang moaned. Her right arm flopped uselessly beside her, broken somewhere between wrist and elbow.

“You should have returned her to me the moment you found her,” Adam told her so quietly that Blake could hardly hear. He was getting to his knees, positioning himself above Yang. With willpower that she hadn’t known she possessed, Blake got to her knees, grabbing at her side with her good hand. She needed to stand up, she needed to--

Adam swung a fist at Yang’s face.

“Instead, you took a woman who already had a boyfriend, you kept her hidden away, and you _fucked her_!” 

“She’s not… your property…” Yang hissed. Every word sounded as if she dragged it out of her skull. Blake couldn’t tell where he’d hit her, but it had to have hurt.

He had lost himself to rage now. She was the color red to his bull. Yet even though he swung at Yang’s face a second time, and even though she was clearly in agony, Blake could see she was keeping it together. She was stretching her good arm, shaking, out to the side, trying to get a hold of Raven’s dropped knife.

Blake remembered her own. She unsheathed it with her unbroken hand. Even though she was shaking violently, she was able to get to her feet. The wound in her side pulled, but Blake gritted her teeth. She staggered closer. During the entire time she’d worn this knife, she hadn’t thought herself capable of using it on anyone, even Adam.

But then Adam’s hands moved to Yang’s throat.

She remembered, with startling clarity, how Adam had been hunched over her that very same way, not even two months ago. She could almost feel his hands around her own windpipe, the way they squeezed without consideration of what he was doing to her. She remembered the panic, the suffocation… She remembered the bruises his hands left.

She couldn’t picture Yang with those bruises.

Yang’s red eyes were popping in her face. She could see Blake over Adam’s shoulder, but couldn’t speak. The crackling noises coming out of her throat sounded desperate.

Blake raised her knife and stabbed.

Adam recoiled. He released his grip on Yang to put a hand to his stomach, and at first, Blake didn’t understand. Her knife had gone through his back, where a lung would be. She looked down. The tip of a second knife had emerged from his back, lower than where Blake had struck.

Yang had gotten a hold of the knife, after all.

Blake wrenched hers out. That was the last thing keeping Adam upright, and he collapsed to the side, narrowly avoiding Yang’s broken arm. Blake knelt beside her, the last of her adrenaline being used to pull her up just enough to distance herself from Adam. Yang fell against Blake’s side, gasping, hand rubbing at her throat.

“Fuck,” Yang managed to choke out in an exhale. Her voice sounded raw and painful. “That was… too close.”

“Don’t talk. Don’t talk yet.” Blake’s words came out in a tremble. Hot tears spilled out of her eyes and coursed down her cheeks. “I know it hurts. Oh, God…”

“Shhh,” Yang breathed. She reached a trembling left hand to Blake’s cheek. Looking down at her, Blake could see one of Yang’s eyes had swollen shut, and blood ran from her nose. Blake closed her eyes and shook her head. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop that,” Yang told her, forcing the painful words out, but even then trying to keep her tone light. “We’re okay.” She took a long, shuddering breath. “It’s over.”

Technically, it wasn’t. Blake could hear the labored gurgles of Adam’s breathing, but they wouldn’t last much longer. If she hadn’t been hurting so badly, she might have tried to put him out of his misery, but she couldn’t have gotten up again even if she wanted to. So she closed her ears, and her heart, to him. There was no room in her heart for him anymore. There hadn’t been in a long while.

Her heart lay in her arms, coughing.

It turns out that Yang _had_ called the police. Blake heard the wailing of sirens approaching the farm. Yang had slipped into unconsciousness, and Blake fought hard against following suit. Instead, she held Yang tight around her waist, as if still trying to protect her from the now-silent body that had haunted them for so long.

_We’ll take care of each other._ Yang’s words from weeks ago echoed through her head. _Nothing will get through our wall._

The next day, the police had told them about the little nest Adam had made for himself in the hayloft, far enough back, behind enough bales to be unnoticed. They had pulled Yang’s gloves out of there, as well as a few other things he’d lifted from around the farm. They’d even found bread that he’d stolen from the farmstand. 

“He’s been here for a little while, at least,” Neptune had told them gravely.

“Probably watching… planning…” Sun shook his head. “It sounds like he totally lost it by the end there, though. Maybe he knew he couldn't keep hiding his tracks once the snow started falling.”

The idea that he’d been watching them had made Blake shudder. Yang noticed, and wrapped her good arm around her. Sure, they had been watched, but now, it didn’t matter. Adam was dead.

Taiyang had come to the hospital the minute he got the phone call. Both of them were awake when he arrived, and it tore at Blake’s heart to see his red-rimmed eyes. He had hugged Yang tightly, careful of her new cast, his thumb brushing over her swollen eye in what seemed to be awe. A part of her feared that this would be the moment of rejection, the moment he understood that she was too dangerous, too selfish to keep around--

But then he was hugging her, too. Gingerly, so as not to disturb the fresh stitches in her side, but there had been nothing but relief in that gesture.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said into her ear. “I’m _so_ glad you girls are okay.”

Ghira and Kali booked a flight immediately, and for the next week, it seemed that Blake and Yang couldn’t find time alone. Doting, worried parents tried nursing their every move, even though much of it was unnecessary. Yang refused outright to have anyone but Blake help her in the shower, and it became one of the rare moments they were able to talk without being fussed over.

“I mean, it’s nice that they want to help, but _Christ_ ,” Yang complained as Blake taped her cast into a bag. “It’s a broken arm, not an amputation or anything.”

“And even if it was, I’m sure you’d be saying the same thing,” Blake replied with a small smile. Yang grinned.

“You bet I would.”

Despite their banter, they knew it was all a facade. They built it up in the day to put a brave face on for their parents, and let it crumble at night, when they organized their defective limbs to hold each other. The night after coming back from the hospital, Yang had broken down so completely that Blake had been sure her own heart would break. 

“When I heard you scream… And he was just… standing there, and you…” were some of the only intelligible words Yang had been able to choke out. Blake had held her through the shudders, through the gasps, through the sobs. This had been the first time she’d actually seen Yang lose control like this, and all Blake could do was hold her tight and murmur calming words. She would have held her forever if it would have helped.

It would have been a small price to pay. She’d wiped Yang’s tears away, and brushed back her hair when Yang finally fell limp against her chest. Small price, high price… Blake would have paid it over and over again for her. 

But the price had already been paid.

Everything that came after had been earned.

Before Yang stepped into the shower, Blake gave her a soft kiss. She didn’t think she would ever take these kisses for granted for the rest of her life. Yang’s responsive smile had been bright, determined. It was the kind of smile Blake felt in her heart.

It was a smile that said, bring on the storms. Bring on the wind, rain, and snow. Bring on the fog and the fire. Bring on the darkness. The weather will clear.

There will be light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. If this chapter was as stressful to read as it was to write, I apologize!
> 
> I'm posting the Epilogue almost immediately after this goes up. If it isn't up by the time you finish this chapter, wait a few more minutes. ;)


	15. Epilogue

“Oh God, you need to delete that one. That’s like… obscene.”

Yang cackled. “And that’s why I’m saving it. It should be illegal to eat an ice cream that way.”

“If you don’t delete it, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Yang held her phone high over her head. “I’d like to see you try.” Blake made a half-hearted attempt to grab the phone from her, but Yang’s arms were too long.

They had taken so many pictures in Menagerie. Tai had blessed them with three whole weeks away from the farm in the early spring, which Yang had been astounded by. Neither of them had expected such a generous length of vacation when there were goats to milk and seeds to start, but he’d insisted. After all, he’d told them, they’d been through a hellish few months.

And those months _had_ been hellish… but not entirely. Blake could look back across those long, terror-filled weeks and see that for all the fear and despair, it had sculpted her life. Instead of being a crumbling piece of rock, she had been polished and cut. Chance had brought her to Yang. Yang had been what made her shine. Sure, there was pain, but there had also been safety, first kisses, reconciliations, joy… and above all of that, there was love.

Life was beautiful.

The weather was warm enough now for them to eat their lunch outside, under the apple trees that were only now beginning to bud with fresh life. Summer would fly by, and she might once again take a bite of an apple from Yang’s hand.

_Tryst_ , her favorite variety was called. How appropriate.

They’d been welcome to Kuo Kuana with open arms. To Ghira and Kali, they weren’t welcoming home just one daughter, but two. Yang had been floored by the warm reception, and Blake’s heart had been warmed that at last, Yang could finally have a mother in her life. It wasn’t to say that Raven wasn’t proud in some way; she’d sent Yang a small note from prison, saying something along the lines of _I knew you could do it_. Kali was different. They’d gotten close during the time Blake's parents had stayed at the farm, and the consistency of their relationship never ceased to surprise Yang.

“It’s almost like having Summer in my life again. In a way,” she had remarked one evening to Blake.

In more ways than one, the vacation had been good for them.

“Ugh, why does your dad always look like such a goof in pictures?” Yang complained. “ _None_ of these pictures are mantle-worthy because of that stupid face he keeps making.”

“He thought he was being funny.” Blake smiled as she took a bite of her sandwich. 

“And now we’ll have _this_ to look at every day because he couldn’t give us just _one_ normal picture.”

“You’re one to talk. Every time I tried getting a selfie with you, you kept doing that thing with your eyebrows.” Yang blew her lips in denial.

They had to eat quickly, since there was so much that needed to be done. So many things needed to be planted, or hardened off, or transplanted. Watering, covering seedlings with netting, staking plants… Yang hadn’t been kidding when she told Blake that the farm truly came alive in the spring and summer.

The dead grass of winter was slowly reviving to a brighter shade of green every day. The goats spent most of their time outside, sampling it, but always wanting the grass on the other side of the fence more. The pigs were joyful to be in the sun, frolicking in a way Blake hadn’t known pigs to be capable of. The chickens were unearthing worms and other insects, and they laid eggs at a rate that Blake could hardly wrap her mind around.

Blake’s hands were an almost hopeless shade of brown, dirt ingraining itself in her toughened skin. She’d given up on trying to get her hands completely clean. What was the point? It didn’t matter, in the end. These calluses were a sign of her hard work, and Yang loved to point out that they made her into a sexy farmer.

“So what I was before?” she’d asked her once. She’d shrugged.

“A sexy runaway?”

Things weren’t quite normal, though routine was coaxing normal back into their lives. Insomnia was a thing of the past, and the nightmares that they’d both been having became more seldom. Therapy helped, but the support they had from family and friends helped more. Tai finished teaching and stayed on the farm. Ghira and Kali called regularly, just to check in. They saw Ren and Nora from time to time, and even Ilia visited every so often. Ruby was deep into her second semester, but she texted so often that Tai sometimes had to put a stop to it so that she’d actually get some work done.

When Tai returned, he’d been saddled with much of the farmwork during the time they’d been in casts. Blake had helped with much of the milkings, since both of her arms were still somewhat functional. Tai had been such a good sport as she learned the ins and outs of the milking machines. It was difficult when three fingers were still in splints, but Blake had been willing to do whatever it took to do her share. Nowadays, those fingers still weren’t as nimble as they had been, and Yang had moaned for ages about her loss of arm strength, but they were both improving.

Normal was returning, bit by bit.

They shoved the remainders of the lunch into a drawstring bag. They could hear Zwei whining at the top of the hill, probably begging Tai for scraps. It was time to get back to work.

As they started walking up the hill, Blake drew back. A small insect buzzed around them, perhaps sensing the sweetness of cookie crumbs. Yang laughed.

“It’s only a little bee!” she cooed at it. Blake raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t want to get stung.”

“Aw, she won’t sting.” The bee landed on the satchel. Yang had taught her the difference between honeybees, bumblebees, and the “mean ones” that would sting for no reason. Still, there was that innate fear of stinging insects that Blake hadn’t gotten over yet. “She’s only looking for something sweet.”

“And it won’t sting?”

“I’ve told you a hundred times! Honeybees don’t like to sting. They know if they sting someone, they’re gonna die. The only times you’ll ever get stung are if you mess around with the hive. That’s all a bee will sting for. To protect their hive. To protect their queen.” A small smile played at Yang’s lips. “They’ll die to save their queen.”

Blake drew herself closer to Yang, slipping an arm around her waist. Yang wrapped her in an embrace, content to hold her. Blake felt the sunshine hitting her shoulders. In Yang's arms, she felt like she was drinking in the sun from all angles.

Yang had gotten tan in Menagerie, and up close, Blake could spot the occasional freckle on her face and on her shoulders. They were endearing, and Blake could have spent hours just looking for them, counting them. Not that Yang could ever sit still that long. The idleness that Yang had endured while in a cast had nearly killed her. Tai had to scold her more than once about pushing herself too much, too soon. She was a restless soul, Blake thought fondly.

The little honeybee gave up on them and buzzed away. Blake watched it over Yang's shoulder as it vanished from sight. 

“We really need to get back to work,” Yang said after a moment, apologetically. “We gotta transplant the tomatoes.”

“That's okay.” They released each other with great reluctance. “Tomatoes are worth it.”

“And nothing’s better than a farm fresh tomato!” Yang swung her arm in cheesy enthusiasm, and Blake rolled her eyes. If she had a nickel for every time Yang had said that this spring, she’d be a wealthy woman.

Not that she wasn’t already. She smiled as Yang grabbed her by the hand to lead her up the hill. Months ago, they’d plummeted down the hill in a tractor, her arms around Yang’s waist while they both screamed. Yang promised that she’d teach Blake how to drive the tractor one of these days. 

_One of these days_. Such simple words, and they could mean so much. Blake was free. She could learn to drive a tractor, she could go on dates, she could talk to her parents. That phrase implied a future. It was still so strange to think that she had one.

Zwei, as predicted, was harassing Tai, who was shoving a last bite of cookie into his mouth. “How come you girls get a nice, quiet, _romantic_ lunch while I get stuck with the dog?” he complained.

“Better him than me,” Blake muttered under her breath. Yang snorted. Blake had come to tolerate Zwei, but she would never be a dog person.

“I can take the lunches inside,” he offered. “I’ll meet you over there.”

“Are you just trying to get out of pulling the cart?” Yang asked, but he darted off because she could finish. She shook her head, her blonde locks bouncing. “Shameless.”

They each took one side of the hand cart. They had loaded it up that morning with the small tomato plants. That afternoon would be spent rigging up the drip tape and tying the plants into place.

“You ready?” Yang look at her, grinning. 

_How could I live in a world without you?_ Yang had asked once. Blake hesitated, then shook her head.

“Not yet.”

Yang quirked an eyebrow, and Blake released her hold of the cart to cup Yang’s cheeks in her hands. Their kiss was quick, but deep, full of everything Blake couldn’t put to words.

Their eyes met. The meaning passed between them, and Yang’s lilac eyes grew soft.

The answer to that question was so easy.

_You don’t._

“Now I’m ready,” Blake replied, back to business. Yang laughed.

Life on the farm went on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And… we’re done.
> 
> I cannot thank you all so much for reading, commenting, kudoing, and just sending me y’alls good vibes. I never thought this fic would have caught on like it had and I’m beyond flattered and honored for your kinds words. I’ve mentioned before, I’m TERRIBLE at responding to comments, but please know that I’ve read each and every one of them and I love y’all so much.
> 
> If any of you are going to RTX this year, hit me up! I can’t bring any goats, but maybe I’ll bring some homemade goat cheese. (I’d love to make some friends in the FNDM, too!) And as always, follow me on tumblr (pugoata) or twitter (MKandtheforce).
> 
> I’d especially like to thank my baby sister sunnyteea (follow her on tumblr! She’s an amazing artist and she keeps saying she’s going to finish a fanfic someday). She got me into RWBY about a year ago, getting me all curious about it even though I swore up and down that I’m not into this sort of thing. She’s been listening to me bitch and whine and kvetch and has the goddamn patience of a saint. She beta’d some of my chapters and is a wonderful person. And I’m never complimenting you like this again, bitch. ;)
> 
> Also big thanks to explosivesky/twelveclara for her words of wisdom. You’re fantastic. And a shout-out to the folks on discord that I’ve been complaining to for this last chapter. I still don’t quite understand discord, but you guys are lovely.
> 
> I’ll be around, darlings. Take care of yourselves.


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